by Rita Herron
Marci felt like she’d been slapped. “You’re one to talk. You’re nothing but a loser kidnapper.”
He raised his hand to slap her, and Marci reared back, then his phone buzzed and he dropped his hand. “Don’t make a sound.”
She chewed her bottom lip while he stepped outside to answer the call. Desperate to find a way out, she scanned the room for a weapon or a pair of scissors.
Zilch.
Maybe there was a plastic knife in the bag with the doughnuts. She tried to scoot the chair forward, but her bound hands and feet made it difficult. The chair teetered once, twice, and she caught herself with her foot and steadied the chair.
Then she started all over, slowly moving her body to make the chair inch toward the bag, but she pushed too hard and the chair fell forward.
Her face hit the floor and she tasted dirt and cheap carpet. She spit out the dirt and struggled to roll to the side, but the door swung open.
“Jesus, lady, you’re going to drive me crazy.” He lumbered forward, jerked the chair back up to a sitting position, then planted himself in front of her, face to face.
“Listen to me and listen good. I need you to make a phone call to your fiancé and persuade him to meet you again.”
“Perfect,” Marci said. “I was planning to do that anyway.”
“You were going to run off with him?”
Marci hedged. She had no idea whether to tell this goon the truth or not. “That’s none of your business.”
He raised the gun, the shiny metal glinting in front of her. “I’m making it my business.”
She forced a bravado to her voice. “I was going to ask him to meet me then let the police know.”
A smirk crossed his face. “Now that’s better. Cooperate with me, Marci, and this will soon be over.”
What did he mean by that?
It would be over? She would be over?
Was he going to off her once she helped him find Paul?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Cade punched Marci’s number for the tenth time as he drove to Kim’s.
When he and Georgia arrived, Kim was frantic, and her husband was trying to console her.
“This is all my fault,” Kim cried. “I should have told her about Dad calling, but I had to see what he wanted first.”
“What did he want?” Cade asked.
“To warn her to stay away from Pendergrass,” Kim said.
Georgia exchanged a look with Cade. He knew what she was thinking. That he didn’t want Marci to find out they were both crooks.
“Why didn’t he call Marci about Pendergrass?” Cade asked.
“Because I’m the practical one.” Kim paced the length of her den. “Marci’s more emotional, so tenderhearted, and she took Daddy leaving so hard that I think he was afraid to face her.”
“It was just as much my fault as yours,” he told Kim. “I…handled things poorly.”
Georgia shot her a sharp look as if to say that was an understatement.
“But I’m her sister,” Kim said. “I was supposed to protect her, take care of her.”
He was the one who was supposed to protect her.
Austin rubbed his wife’s back. “It’s not your fault, Kimmie. Marci’s impetuous and acts out of her heart.”
And he had broken it as badly as Pendergrass.
“But she trusted me,” Kim wailed.
“She trusted me, too,” Cade said, self-loathing consuming him.
Georgia pressed her fingers in her mouth and gave a loud whistle. Kim startled, but stopped sobbing, and he jerked his head toward her.
“Enough,” Georgia said. “This is all very touching. But it’s not helping find Marci or Pendergrass.”
Cade snapped back to professional mode. She was right. “Georgia, check and see if the tech team has picked up anything on Marci’s cellphone.”
She nodded and stepped in the kitchen to make the call.
Cade raked his hand through his hair. “Kim, can you give me a description of the man who took Marci?”
Kim visibly tried to pull herself together. “I didn’t get a good look but he was medium height, a little beefy. Dark hair, sort of shaggy.”
“Did he have any distinguishing marks? A tattoo or scar?”
Kim massaged her temple, her brows puckered. “Oh, yeah. He had a mole in the middle of his forehead.”
Cade nodded. “Good. What about the vehicle he was driving?”
“A black sedan,” Kim said, wiping at her eyes.
“Two door or four?”
She had to think a minute. “Four. And the windows were tinted.”
“Did you get the make or year?”
She scrunched her nose. “No. I’m sorry, it happened so fast, and I was scared.”
Austin squeezed her shoulder. “It’s okay, honey, we’ll find her.”
“But what if he hurts her?” Panic flared in Kim’s eyes.
“Don’t think like that,” Austin said. “This guy might just be another distraught victim of Pendergrass’s scam who wants his money back.”
Yeah, and he intended to use Marci as bait. Cade didn’t like that fact.
Kim’s chin wobbled, reminding him of her sister and making his gut twist with worry.
What was the man doing to Marci now?
Kim clutched her husband’s arm. “But he had a gun and he hit Marci over the head and …”
“Shh,” Austin said softly, pulling her back down to sit on the sofa. “The police are going to find her, won’t you, Detective?”
“Yes, we will,” he promised. He just hoped she was alive when they did.
Footsteps clattered, and Georgia appeared in the threshold of the doorway. “The tech team is working on that trace now.”
“Kim just gave me a description of the man who took Marci.” Cade angled his head to Georgia. “Why don’t you go with her and Mr. McDane to the station so she can look at some mug shots?”
Kim stood. “Yes, I can do that. Anything to help.”
Cade’s cell phone trilled, and he jerked it up. “Detective Muller.”
“It’s Taylor Cartwright in the tech department. We have a trace on Marci Turner’s phone. She’s on the move.”
Cade motioned to Georgia. “Give me the coordinates. I’m on my way.”
He motioned to Georgia to accompany Kim and her husband then he raced toward his car.
He had to save Marci.
*~*~*~*
Marci forced air through her lungs, readjusting her eyes to the new location. They were in a wooded area, a cabin on Lake Lanier. The smell of honeysuckle surrounded her, the swish of water against the bank so familiar that a pang of nostalgia washed over her.
The thug who’d kidnapped her had blindfolded her on the ride, but she’d recognized the location as soon as he’d dragged her from the car. She and Kim had skipped school during the winter to cruise with their friends around the rental properties and campsites, helped their mother decorate her cabin for Christmas with garland and peppermint sticks, spent summers skiing on the lake and having picnics, swimming at the beach at Lake Lanier Islands, trying to catch the boy’s attention as they sunbathed in their bikinis.
Well, she had tried to attract boys.
Kim had skipped some of the fun to study for the SAT’s.
No wonder her sister was happily married to a great guy, and she was tied up at gunpoint, had been arrested for her part in a con game and was …still sore from making love all night to the man who’d arrested her.
Because she’d always acted on her hormones.
The goon who’d kidnapped her checked the locks, then shoved her onto the leather sofa and glared at her as he punched Paul’s number. “Time to get this show on the road.”
She stared at that nasty mole on his forehead. “You should get that checked. It could be a melanoma.”
He jerked her chin, his rancid breath bathing her face. “You should keep your mouth shut and do what you’re told.”
The moron
had no idea who he’d kidnapped -- she’d never kept her mouth shut or obeyed anyone in her life.
“Or you’ll do what? Kill me?” Marci said, fidgeting with the ropes. “What good will that do you?”
He growled an obscenity. “At the moment it might give me pleasure.”
The ropes cut into her wrists. Drat. Now she’d made him mad. Maybe she should curb her comments. She didn’t want to end up dead on a slab in the morgue.
For heavens’ sake, she didn’t even have a will. Not that she had anything to pass on. But she needed to include directions for her hair and make-up at her funeral. She refused to be caught looking a fright with her roots showing and her eyebrows unwaxed when her friends came to say their final good-byes.
Probably a lame thing to be thinking right now, but she had to distract herself from the fact that this might be the end for her.
That she might never see her sister again.
Regret mushroomed inside her…she’d left mad, had screamed at Kim…
The goon shoved the phone at her. “Here, call your honey now.”
Her hands had gone numb from being tied up, so she stretched her fingers to regain some feeling in the appendages. He’d already located Paul’s number so she simply had to hit call back. The phone rang five times then went to voice mail. Marci started to leave a message, but her kidnapper tapped redial.
“I told you, he’s done with me,” she said as they both listened to the phone ring again.
He glared at her. “We’ll keep trying until he answers.”
She flinched as he pressed the phone to her ear. Five more times and voice mail again. Marci was starting to feel nauseated from the goon’s sweaty odor.
“He probably threw his phone away,” Marci said.
The goon paced the room and punched the number again. Marci twisted her hands, desperate to untie herself. Then maybe she could hit the guy over the head and run…
On the next go around, Paul finally answered in a shout and the man shoved the phone to Marci’s ear, “Why are you calling me, Marci? To sic the police on me again?”
“Don’t hang up, Paul –”
“Why the hell not? The police are probably tracing the call.”
“Then we’ll talk fast,” Marci cried. “One of your buddies kidnapped me.”
“Good try, babe, but I’m no fool.”
“I’m not kidding!” Marci screeched. “He’s holding a gun on me right now.”
“Yeah, right.”
Then the line went dead. Damn him to hell. He’d hung up on her!
Marci wanted to scream. The buffoon with the gun cursed, then punched the number again. Marci held her breath, praying Paul would answer.
She heard his loud bellow when he did. “Stop fucking calling me –”
“Your girlfriend isn’t lying, Pendergrass,” the man bellowed.
Paul heaved for a breath. “Who is this?”
“I work with your buddy Sebastian.”
A tense moment, then Paul muttered, “Shit.”
“He’s not happy that you haven’t contacted him,” the goon said. “But you can make it up to him by meeting us at the lake house.”
Another tense heartbeat passed. “You have Marci?”
“Yes. And if you don’t meet us, you’re going to pay.” The man lowered his voice to a threatening whisper. “And Sebastian isn’t talking about the money you owe him.”
Marci’s throat closed. Dear God. They were talking about her father. Was it true? He and Paul were working together?
*~*~*~*
Cade dialed Georgia. “We just tapped into the call. Marci’s being held at a lake house. Pendergrass is supposed to meet them there.”
“I’ll do a search for property owned by Pendergrass and his aliases.”
“Try Sebastian’s as well.”
“Okay. Kim’s looking at mug shots now.”
“Ask her if she knows anything about a lake house,” Cade said.
“I’ll put her on the phone.”
Rustling sounded then Kim answered. “Detective Strait said Marci’s at a lake house?”
“Yes,” Cade said. “Does that ring a bell?”
“My mother owned a cabin on Lake Lanier,” Kim said. “We used to spend the holidays there.”
“Where exactly is it?”
“I’ll text you the address,” Kim said. “Although I thought Mom had sold it.”
“Send it to me anyway and I’ll check it out while Georgia searches for other vacant properties where they might be.”
A second later, the text came through, and Cade swung his car around and sped down the interstate. Lake Lanier was at least a good forty-five minutes away.
Anything could happen to Marci in that time.
He gripped the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip as he raced from the expressway, then turned off onto Peachtree Industrial Boulevard. Several more miles and he turned onto another road that was two-lanes. He flipped on his siren and sped around a truck, noting a couple of boating shops, a new subdivision being built boasting about the amenities, and a bait shop.
Finally he swung onto the graveled road marked by his GPS, weaving around the curves until he finally reached the cabin. It was tucked back into the woods, shrouded in trees with a specular view of the lake.
He noticed a dark sedan parked beneath a cluster of trees, half hidden by the leaves. That had to be it.
He passed the drive, then drove a quarter of a mile and parked in a loading and unloading area for boats, well out of sight so as not to alert Pendergrass or Sebastian if he showed up. Pulse clamoring, he pulled his gun, slipped from his vehicle, and sneaked back through the woods toward the cabin.
The sound of a boat puttering caught his attention, and he glanced toward it, wondering if Pendergrass had chosen it again so as to make his escape easier.
He hid behind a giant oak near the edge, his suspicions confirmed as Pendergrass guided the boat up to the dock, tied it and climbed out. The weasel of a man looked nervous, fidgeting as he made his way up to the cabin.
He should be nervous. Cade was about to nail his ass to the wall.
He waited until Pendergrass reached the cabin, then he inched up to the back window to see what was going on. Marci was tied to a chair in the living area by a stone fireplace that probably made the room cozy in the winter. But nothing about this scene was cozy or inviting.
Tension crackled in the air as Pendergrass entered the room. The man holding Marci waved his gun at Pendergrass while Marci made a soft sound in her throat.
“You came,” the goon muttered as he gestured for Pendergrass to lift his arms so he could search him for a gun.
When he finished frisking him, the man ordered Pendergrass to sit down. Then the other man mumbled something, and Cade strained to hear.
Marci shifted in the chair, her hands working behind her back as if she was trying to free herself. “Paul, what’s going on between you and my father?”
Paul jerked his head toward her. “So you finally caught on?”
“Caught onto what?” Marci’s eyes widened. “That he’s a crook, too?”
Paul’s thin lips snarled. “You really are as dumb as you look, Marci.” He walked over and lifted a strand of her hair. “The only reason I dated you was insurance against your father.”
“You thought he wouldn’t betray you if you were seeing me?” Marci laughed sarcastically. “That was your first mistake, Paul. My father could care less about me.”
Fury railed through Cade, and he barely contained himself from rushing in and killing the jerk.
“Sebastian will be here any minute,” the man with the gun said. “Then you have your little family reunion and settle this.”
Cade debated on waiting on Sebastian, but decided he was already outnumbered, so he texted Georgia that he needed back-up, then raised his gun at the ready and slipped around to the side entrance. He jiggled the door, then eased it open and crept down the hall.
Tension
vibrated through him as he stepped into the room and aimed the gun at Marci’s kidnapper. Pendergrass jumped up from the sofa as if to run.
“Put down the gun.” Barely holding onto his control, he gestured toward Pendergrass. “I’ve had it with you. Run and you’re a dead man.”
Pendergrass’s face paled, and he crouched away from Marci, plastering himself against the wall as if his legs might fold beneath him.
“Cade?” Marci said in a raw whisper.
“Shit,” the man with the gun said into a microphone on his collar.
“Police. Put the gun down,” Cade ordered, keeping one eye on Pendergrass and the other on the kidnapper.
The man slowly placed his gun on the oak coffee table, then raised his hands. “Listen, it’s not what you think – ”
Cade’s fingers tightened around the barrel of his weapon. “You’re under arrest for kidnapping and attempted murder and no telling what other charges I find when I finish connecting you to Pendergrass.”
“Don’t shoot, Detective. I can explain.”
“Save it for your lawyer.” Cade glanced at Marci. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
Marci shook her head. “I’m fine. I just want out of here.” She gestured behind her at the ropes then at her ankles.
Cade moved closer to the goon and handcuffed him then motioned for him and Pendergrass to take the sofa. When they sank onto it, he walked over to Marci to untie her.
But footsteps sounded, and suddenly Cade felt another presence in the room.
Georgia?
No…not Georgia.
Sebastian stepped into the room, his hand waving a Glock at all of them.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Marci’s throat clogged with emotions. “Dad?”
Her father’s mouth thinned into a grimace. “I’ll take Pendergrass.”
Cade glared at her father, his own gun raised. “No way I can let you do that, Sebastian. He’s in my custody. I have to arrest you, too.”
“That’s not going to happen,” her father said stiffly.
Marci still couldn’t believe her eyes. Her father was here.