“Then it’s been fixed. How long since you left?”
She shrugged. “Two hours, maybe.”
“When they get here, we’ll go over and see if you can’t point out some incongruences. They couldn’t have remembered to replace everything. Or replace whatever they broke.”
“What difference does it make?” Cassi made a decision. “I’ve got to call Renae.”
“Now?”
“She called me and left a message. Maybe it’s related to the envelope. Maybe she knows where Jared is. We went there before when we were in trouble—or maybe it’s a surprise, and she knows about it.” Cassi bit back a sob and was glad when Linden silently handed her his phone. She couldn’t remember where hers was and suspected she’d left it at her house or at Jared’s.
“Hi, Renae, it’s Cassi,” she said when she heard her friend pick up.
“Thank heaven! Oh, Cassi, I’ve been trying to call you and Jared for two days now. I don’t know what else to do. The police don’t know anything, and they keep implying that he’s left me. Can you imagine? With five kids—one a new baby?”
“Renae, slow down. I can hardly understand what you’re saying. What’s going on?”
Renae took a deep breath. “It’s Trent,” she said with an ache in her voice that made Cassi hold her breath. “He’s been missing since Monday. He didn’t come home from work.” Renae was sobbing now, and Cassi hurried to comfort her.
“Look, don’t cry, Renae. Jared’s missing, too.”
Renae hiccupped and broke off in mid-sob. “Maybe they’re together.” Hope tinged her voice. “That would make sense, since Trent was talking with Jared last week. I knew he was worried about something, but he didn’t want to tell me. I’ve been so busy with my music and the kids that I didn’t think to press him.”
“Jared talked with Trent on the phone?” Cassi asked, her heart sinking.
“Yes. There was some problem at work, and Trent said he wanted to run it past Jared since he was in the art business. I didn’t think anything of it until he disappeared Monday. I thought when he sent Jared the envelope, we’d be out of it.”
A cold feeling swept through Cassi in a single instant. “We’ve called in some of Linden’s friends who work for the FBI. They’ll find them. We’ll give them the envelope. Try not to worry so much. I’ll get back in touch.”
“Thanks. Let me know the second you hear anything.”
“I promise.” Cassi hung up and turned to Linden.
“What’s wrong? I don’t like that look.”
“Trent’s missing, too. He—he sent the envelope.”
They both stared at the manila envelope lying so inconspicuously on the coffee table with the junk mail.
“We should leave.” The color had drained from Linden’s face. “I think I know what’s going on.”
Cassi had never seen him so afraid. She rubbed the goose bumps on her arms. Why was she suddenly so cold? “What?”
“The search at your apartment. It was all just a ploy. Obviously if they have the means to set your house back the way it was, they’re professionals. And there is only one reason professionals would let you know they’d been there at all. They wanted you to find whatever it was Jared wouldn’t give them—probably that envelope. I bet they have Jared, and he’s refused to tell them anything. So they decided to get it from you.”
Linden’s hypothesis made sense. Jared’s apartment had been untouched because they weren’t trying to scare him. They knew only too well that he wouldn’t be going back there. But Cassi was another story. They had meant to scare her into giving them what Jared wouldn’t—and it had worked. Only she could have found the keys to the box at the post office. She brought a fist to her chest, as though it could stop the ache. “They must have him.”
“Probably. And they’ll be wanting that envelope.”
“Well, they’re not going to get it.” Her voice grated like rocks.
“You don’t understand, Cassi. They wouldn’t just let you get it and go. They must have followed you. They’ve probably been watching you all day, waiting for you to take the bait.”
Realization came, sharp and quick. “Oh, no. I’ve led them here.”
“Come on!” Linden ran to the study door, motioning to her. “We need to get out of here.”
Cassi grabbed the manila envelope and followed. Linden was already halfway down the wide hall. “Let’s take my car,” she said. “It’s just out front.”
Linden shook his head. “I need to check the security system first to see what’s going on. I don’t think that plunging out there blindly is the wisest thing to do.”
Linden made a brief call on his cell phone while they walked, though Cassi didn’t hear what he said. She felt as if they were in a dream, and any moment now she would wake up and find herself in her own bed.
Linden stopped in a small room next to the door leading to the garage. Inside he switched on a row of monitors. Nothing happened. “They’ve gotten to the security system,” he said. “I was afraid they would. That’s why they haven’t come yet. They’ve been busy. But there’s nothing holding them back now. We have two choices. Either we make a run for it, or we try to hold them off here. Personally, I don’t think they’ll let us out of here very easily.”
“Your friends,” Cassi whispered. “They’ll be coming soon.”
He gave a short nod. “They’re nearby. But if whoever’s out there is smart enough to break into my alarm system without notifying the police, they are also smart enough to hack into my phone. They’ll act soon to keep their advantage.”
“Then we stay.” Cassi choked on the words.
Linden’s face was grim and his jaw set, his fear replaced by action and rigid self-control. He opened a large glass case on the wall and pulled out a rifle and several magazines of ammunition. Cassi picked up a pistol and loaded it as well, her fingers remarkably calm.
“My brother taught me a few years ago,” she said in response to Linden’s raised eyebrow. He knew Robert was a police officer. She racked the gun, the sound reverberating loudly in the stillness.
“We’ll wait for them upstairs,” Linden said. “It’ll take them a while to search here. Every second buys time for us.”
She followed him to the sweeping staircase that led to the upstairs where she had never been before. They had barely set foot on the stairs when the doorbell chimed part of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony.
“It seems they still hope to take us by surprise. Thank goodness the maid has evenings off.” Linden’s already quick pace increased, and he took the stairs two at a time. Cassi sprinted after him, arriving at the top before he did.
The door burst open below. “Stop!” yelled a voice.
Cassi and Linden dived behind the wall leading to the right hallway. Several men bolted up the stairs, but Linden let off a few shots and they scurried for cover.
“There’s no use. Give it up!” someone called.
“That’s not true!” Linden shouted back. “FBI agents are on their way!”
Uneasy silence filled the vaulted entryway. Cassi felt her heart might leap out of her chest as she crouched next to Linden. They heard a sound, and Linden poked his rifle out and shot again.
Answering fire came, along with a few muffled curses. Then Linden stiffened. “Umph,” he groaned.
Cassi stared, horrified to see blood spreading from a wound in his back. She raised her gun and shot down the upper hallway, hearing someone duck into a room. “They’re up here, too!” she cried.
Linden nodded, his breath coming heavily. “They must have managed to break through the bars I have on the windows. We’ve got to get to my suite.”
They fired a few shots down into the entryway, and a few more into the left upstairs hallway from where the deadly shot had come. Then Linden lurched to his feet and started unsteadily forward, away from the intruders, his steps growing firmer as though he was becoming accustomed to the pain. He shoved another magazine into his rifle.
Cassi hesitated when she saw Linden pause to fire again. His lean figure jerked twice as two more bullets slammed into him. She shoved the manila envelope into the waistband of her skirt and crossed the two steps between them, catching him before he fell. Her gun dropped to the soft carpet.
He tried to push her away. “The room. Get to the room!”
Holding onto him, Cassi struggled ahead. She heard more bullets and felt a stinging on her leg, just above the knee. She pushed on, fighting to keep Linden from collapsing. It seemed like an eternity before they reached his bedroom suite and slammed the door behind them.
“Lock it,” Linden puffed. “It’s metal. The previous owner was a security freak. It’ll take them a while to get through.” Giving a sigh, he crumpled to the floor.
Cassi turned from the door. “Linden!” Fresh blood quickly stained the carpet around him. She saw that his head was also slick with blood.
“I’m okay,” he mumbled.
Tears clouded Cassi’s vision. Inside she felt an overwhelming rage coupled with paralyzing fear. What should I do now?
“You need to get out of here,” Linden said, his voice urgent. He pointed across the room. “Go through that archway. My bed’s in there. On the headboard you’ll find a hidden opening.” He stopped to heave a few breaths, slowly as though each effort pained him. “Twist the knob . . . left one . . . full turn. Locks . . . other side . . . tunnel . . . neighbor’s. Go, get away . . . hurry!”
Cassi’s thoughts were as jumbled as Linden’s words. “I’m not leaving without you.”
He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close to him with surprising strength. “Yes, you are,” he insisted. “I’ll hold . . . them off. Don’t worry.”
“Of course I’ll worry! If I go into the tunnel, you’re coming with me.”
“I . . . can’t move.” His face twisted with effort of speech. “See? You . . . can’t carry me. I’ll . . . hold them off.”
“No, no, no!” Cassi shook her head, feeling tears wet her face.
Linden’s grasp on her shoulders tightened, and his brown eyes bore into hers as he said clearly, “Cassi, you don’t have a choice. They have Jared . . .” He released his hold and let his arms fall to the carpet, drawing a weak, shuddering breath. “The envelope . . . keep it safe . . . or Jared will die. And us, too. His life . . . our lives . . . are in your hands. Get out . . . call ambulance.”
Cassi clenched her teeth, sobs wracking her chest. She grabbed Linden’s hand and held it to her cheek.
He smiled faintly and spoken again between labored breaths. “You have to . . . agree my cogency is more than . . . adequate. Do it for me. Please. I . . . love you . . . need to know . . . you’re safe. Give me . . . that. Please . . . dear, dear, Cassi.”
From the way his hand caressed her cheek and the look in his eyes, Cassi knew he cared for her, perhaps more than she’d realized. Love and tenderness filled her heart and blotted out some of the horror of the moment.
An abrupt banging brought her back to the stark realization of her circumstances. Shots echoed against the door, but she saw no sign of them on this side. How long would it be until they broke through?
She knew what she had to do.
Swiftly, she ran into the master bathroom and found towels with which to pack Linden’s wounds. Two bathrobe ties helped hold the towels in place. Then she bent and kissed his cold lips. He closed his eyes and didn’t open them again. “Go,” he pleaded.
Cassi ran to the window and flung it open. A hurried search led her to a switch next to the pane which released the iron bars covering the opening.
There, let them think I went out onto the roof, she thought. She forced herself not to look back at Linden.
Her steps took her under the archway and into the inner chamber of Linden’s bedroom suite. It was as spacious and elegant as the rest of Linden’s mansion. An antique wall unit stood opposite the queen-sized bed. Other small tables and exquisitely carved shelves made up the rest of the furniture. Small, tasteful statues and excellent paintings were placed throughout the room. This was where Linden must keep his most valued treasures.
Her gaze focused on a silver-framed eight-by-ten photograph that dominated the night table by the bed. It was one she’d taken only last month for her pending wedding. Linden had asked for a copy, but she never dreamed he would keep it here.
“Oh, Linden.” She faltered in her flight and almost went back to him. A volley of shots, followed by muffled shouting, reverberated through the insulated walls and stopped her cold, reminding her all too clearly of the danger. Was she already too late to escape? No! I have to save Jared!
She continued her flight to the bed, reaching for the left bedpost on the oversized headboard. She could see no visible sign of a hidden door. One full turn—was it left or right? She tried twisting to the right but it wouldn’t budge. It did turn to the left with effort as though rusty from lack of use.
With a low moan, the headboard moved, swinging not out as she had expected but into the wall. Cassi scrambled onto the bed and crawled into the dark opening, looking frantically around for the closing mechanism. She saw it on the white wall immediately to her right, underneath a glowing red light.
The shouts had grown louder, and the gunshots sounded closer. Had they broken into the room? Oh, Linden!
As if in a dream, Cassi slapped at the flat push-button under the red light. The headboard began returning to its customary spot. As it closed, a part of Cassi’s heart withered. She had deserted Linden, her friend and mentor. She had left him to die alone.
Cassi didn’t cry. She didn’t do anything but stare into the dark and listen to the shooting and the shouts until her heart hardened enough for the pain to fade, covered by her anger and determination.
Another red light next to the first began blinking. Cassi could barely make out the words beneath the switch: lock. She pressed it and was rewarded by a deep rumbling from somewhere inside the wall.
At once, both lights vanished and Cassi was plunged into utter darkness.
CHAPTER FOUR
IT HAD BEGUN SO SIMPLY the week before, with Trent Benson’s phone call from his office at Dalton Importing. “Some papers have come to me,” he had said to Jared. “I’m not sure what they mean exactly, but I thought, because of your art background, you might look into them for me and tell me if there’s a problem. I wouldn’t want to alert my bosses if there’s nothing wrong. I’d ask Cassi, but she must be so busy with the wedding plans and all.”
“And I’m an unemployed bum,” Jared said with a grin he hoped was communicated to Trent in his voice.
“Haven’t you found a new job yet? I thought Renae told me you had.”
“I’m self-employed working as a freelance art broker. It’s similar to being a buyer like I was in New York, except that I also find clients for the things I buy. It’s been slow, but it’s picking up now. I hope to have a healthy list of clients before Cassi and I open our own gallery in a few years. We’ll need that base.”
“That’s great. You must be pretty busy then. I don’t want to impose.” Trent hesitated, and though Jared had only met the man a few times, he could sense his reluctance.
“It’s no imposition. We’re practically family. Your kids even call me uncle.”
Trent laughed. “They really like you. They can’t wait for the wedding.”
“Neither can I. But what exactly is the problem?”
“Like I said before, I’m not really sure. I don’t even know who gave me these papers. A messenger dropped them off a few days ago. He came to the house, not the office. It was really strange. I have no idea who he was, or who sent him.”
Jared’s curiosity was piqued. “So what’s on the papers?”
“Most of it is written in some f
oreign language or languages. But in the English part, I do recognize some shipments that correspond with the manifest logs I have here at work. There weren’t any company names on the sheets I was given, but in our logs I recognized the name of the gallery you used to work for. Garrettson’s, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Jared’s mouth felt dry. Laranda Garrettson had used him to transport smuggled goods. What else had she done? Was he somehow involved?
“Our logs say that some of the paintings matching those listed on the papers were exported to European countries within the last three months. But next to them are U.S. addresses and more dates. It all may be nothing. But the way the papers came to me, and seeing the Garrettson gallery connected . . . well, you get what I mean. I hoped you could check it out before I called in anyone.”
Jared suspected that Trent had called less for his help and more to let Jared have a crack at redeeming himself from Laranda’s manipulations. “Thank you. I really appreciate it. Laranda’s in prison, but sometimes I wonder if she’s really out of the game. Why don’t you send the papers, and I’ll take a look at them?”
“Sure, glad to. What’s the address?”
“In case they’re important, you’d better send them to my P.O. box. I’m not here much these days, and I have everything important going there since I’m moving in with Cassi after the wedding.” Jared gave him the address.
“I’ll send it today. Meanwhile, I’m going to do some checking on my side. I may ruffle some feathers here at Dalton Importing, but I want to find out how someone got the information from our logs and where the paintings actually ended up. Sometimes they list not only the immediate destination, but the final destination as well. I have some friends in Europe who can check to make sure the artwork arrived.”
“Good deal.” Jared had hung up the phone, curious but not really concerned. Laranda was in prison and couldn’t hurt him.
He never had a chance to retrieve Trent’s papers.
Swallowing hard, Jared forced himself to reach out a second time to touch the motionless body sprawled on the floor next to him in the darkness.
Framed For Love Page 3