by Tess Diamond
“What are you thinking, Maggie?” Frank asked.
Maggie rubbed a hand over her forehead, her mind picking at the puzzle like a bug bite. “They aren’t going to find Grayson,” she said. “He’s too smart. He was the one who suggested this venue. He probably has a handful of exit strategies, just in case.”
“You think he’s that prepared?” Jake asked, loping up to them. There was a small tear in his shirtsleeve, but even though she knew he had, he didn’t look like he’d just taken on four security guards—and won.
“He knows everything we’ve been talking about,” Maggie said, the realization sinking in. “He knows all of us. Knows how we interact, knows how we plan. He’s been privy to it all. He’s three steps ahead,” she added bitterly, “and we didn’t even know what game he was playing until just now.”
“It’s not your fault, Kincaid,” Jake said softly, reaching out, his palm settling between her shoulder blades and pressing gently. It was an intimate touch, a gesture to comfort a lover, not a colleague. Warmth burst through her like a lit sparkler. She felt it down to her fingertips, and everything inside her wanted to lean into the touch, wanted him not to take the burden from her, but only to help her bear some of it. His shoulders were strong, and his eyes were warm and understanding. Maggie could get lost in them. She wished she could right now.
Frank cleared his throat, and Jake’s hand dropped away, his cheeks reddening. Maggie felt the loss of his touch as a sudden, aching absence. She tried to put it out of her head—everything was heightened right now, she told herself. It had been a stressful few hours.
“I feel like an idiot,” Maggie said, grimacing in disgust. She hadn’t seen it. She should have.
“Something’s weird about this case,” Jake said.
“It does feel fishy,” Frank agreed.
Maggie took a deep breath. She’d let Kayla down by not seeing through Grayson from the start. Well, no more. This wasn’t going to end like Sherwood Hills. And Kayla wasn’t going to end like Erica. Maggie would be damned if Kayla Thebes ended up being forever a girl in her loved ones’ memories. An always-innocent who never got to grow up into a woman, all because a crooked kidnapper wanted something from her crooked father. Kayla deserved to grow up, to fall in love, to go to college, to get married, and have a career and family of her own. Maggie would do anything necessary to ensure that happened . . . that Kayla didn’t become frozen at fourteen, like Erica was for her.
“Let’s go find out what it is,” she said. “And for Kayla’s sake, let’s do it fast.”
Chapter 24
Kayla had lost track of time. Was it morning? She couldn’t tell: The room was windowless, and the kidnapper—whoever he was—hadn’t come back after he’d videotaped her reading the book.
She’d managed to undo the drawstring on the hood and pull it off and once she was free, the stale air against her face felt like the best thing in the world.
She was in a windowless gray room. It was almost like being in a box except for the door, which had an added iron-barred security door in front of it. Her eyes darted across her surroundings. She needed a weapon . . . something. He’d left a bucket in with her and she dragged it closer, wincing at the smell.
Blinking back tears, she tried to stay calm. Had the kidnapper contacted her parents? They had to have arranged a ransom or something by now, right?
She’d be rescued soon. Any second now. Her parents would make sure of it.
She licked her dry lips, muffling a sob, because she couldn’t fool herself. What was she going to do? She didn’t want to die. Her mom would never recover if she didn’t come home.
She struggled to her knees, her bound wrists making it difficult. A wave of dizziness hit her as she straightened up, and her hands began to shake.
Her blood sugar was spiraling down fast. She needed to check it and eat something. She needed her insulin. God, how long had it been?
Kayla pushed herself to her feet, circling the tiny room, searching for her purple pouch. Had he left her some?
But there was nothing. Just the rusty bucket and the sleeping bag on top of the mattress pad.
What was she going to do?
Then she heard it: footsteps coming closer. Kayla scrambled backward into the farthest corner of the room at the clink of keys.
The door swung open, and Kayla’s heart leapt for a second when she saw it was Max, her dad’s policy advisor. For one glorious moment she thought that he was here to save her. That her dad had sent him and he’d somehow found her.
And then she realized he was wearing the same hoodie as the kidnapper.
That he was her kidnapper.
Oh, God. How long had he been planning this? He’d been working for her dad for years!
The pit in her stomach grew. This was bad. This was really bad.
His hair was messed up, and he was panting hard, as if he’d been running.
Kayla cringed against the wall, her mind racing. What was going on? Why would he do this?
“What are you doing?” she asked. “You work for my dad!”
His mouth was a grim line of determination. “There’s no use in pretending anymore, Kayla. The game’s changed.”
“Please, I didn’t do anything. Didn’t they pay you? If you talk to my mom, she’ll make sure you get whatever you want. I promise.”
“Strange you leap to your mother instead of your father,” Max said. “Or maybe not, all things considered. Did little Kayla figure out what her precious daddy was up to?” he singsonged mockingly at her.
Her lip trembled, but she had to be strong. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “Please, just call my mom. She has money apart from Dad. She comes from a really rich family.”
“There’s always collateral damage, Kayla,” Max said, pulling out the purple pouch that held her insulin. Kayla’s heart leapt. No . . . he wouldn’t. “Sadly, you’re in the crossfire of a war you didn’t even know existed, and it’s time to dial up the pressure.”
He threw the pouch onto the ground and stomped . . . hard. She could hear the bottle of insulin inside breaking under his foot.
Oh, God. Her hands shook harder. Sweat crawled down the back of her neck as she realized how bad this was.
He was going to kill her. Slowly.
Max Grayson looked at her, a gleam in his eye that made him look deranged. “Let’s see how your father’s hotshot negotiator responds to that.”
Chapter 25
Maggie leaned against the wall of the long corridor leading to the kitchen. It was far enough away from the throng in the conference room that she could barely hear the buzz of voices.
She closed her eyes, tilting her face up to the ceiling, trying to let the anger churning inside her go. She had had him, dammit! And he’d slipped away, with every detail about her team in his disgusting hands.
“Maggie?”
Maggie’s eyes opened. Jake was standing there, his green eyes concerned.
“Hey.” She straightened. “I’m okay,” she said, even though he hadn’t asked.
“They asked me to bring you back,” he said. “You ready?”
She looked up at him, everything inside her saying no even though she knew she had to say yes. It’d been an hour since Max Grayson had fled the press conference, narrowly avoiding FBI capture. Senator Thebes and his wife, plus the rest of her team, were on the other side of the doors, waiting for her.
Waiting for her to give them some answers.
How could she have not seen it? Recognized that Grayson was the very person she’d been hunting? Had she just let her automatic dislike of the callous, fast-talking politico cloud her instincts? How had she not seen the devious, criminal mind beneath the expensive suits and slick hair?
“None of us saw it, Maggie,” Jake said quietly.
It took Maggie a second to realize she’d asked the questions spinning in her head out loud. Her cheeks burned, but her embarrassment faded when Jake smiled gently at her. H
is black hair was messy; he hadn’t fixed it since his altercation with the security guards earlier. She felt a sudden urge to run her hands through it, to see if it was as thick and silky as it looked. She tried to push the distraction away.
“He must have slipped out to film the video.”
“There were at least forty people running around then,” Jake said. “It was easy to miss. This is more on me than it is on you. Your job is to negotiate. I’m supposed to notice security threats or breaches—and I didn’t notice he was gone either.”
It was nice of him to try to take on some of the guilt, but Maggie knew this was on her. She was the one trained in the criminal mind. She was the one people brought in on the tough calls . . . the tricky ones. She should’ve spotted him. Where was that famous instinct of hers when she needed it? It had failed her, just as it had at Sherwood Hills.
Had her instincts just atrophied? It was two years since she’d been in the field. Maybe Frank was wrong—maybe she wasn’t the right person for this job. But it didn’t matter. If they switched things up now, Grayson would know they were panicking. He’d use the weakness to his advantage.
“Grayson must’ve sent the second ransom ask using some sort of timed app,” Maggie said. “We should have the techs look into that.”
“We will,” Jake said. “We’ll figure this out. We’ll get Kayla home safe and put Grayson behind bars.”
“How can you be so hopeful?” she asked. She wanted to be that sure, that faithful, but after everything—those nights of terror and leaving Erica behind, leaving Erica to die, after Sherwood Hills and even more blood on her hands—she wasn’t certain it was in her anymore. She felt like crumbling underneath the pressure—any other time, she’d be there already, in pieces on the ground. But here he was, standing there, telling her what she needed to hear, holding her up, holding her together . . . how did he do that . . . again? Know what she needed before she did?
He reached out, and normally the movement would make her flinch away. But instead, she found herself leaning into it as his thumb stroked over the soft plane of her cheek. She shivered at the contact, warmth pooling inside her.
“I’m hopeful because I’ve seen you in action now,” he said. “You’re fast on your feet. You think creatively. You don’t let fear get the better of you. You can do this. You’re the touchstone.”
There was something about Jake speaking those words that bolstered her. “You’re right,” she said, and it came out a little shakier than she’d like, but he smiled.
He bent down and everything inside her froze, thinking he was going to kiss her.
Thinking she wanted him to.
She wanted to reach out and grasp those muscular arms, drawing him toward her, pressing his strong chest against the softness of hers. She wanted to trace every difference between them with her fingertips and lips, the strength of his jaw, the power in his shoulders.
He was so close, she could smell a hint of aftershave—something spicy and masculine—and then his cheek, rough with stubble and excruciatingly sexy, brushed against hers as his lips touched her ear.
“Go get ’em, Goldilocks,” he said.
She walked through those doors like a new woman. The game had changed, and she wasn’t sure it could be won. But she’d be damned if anyone stopped fighting for Kayla as hard as they could.
“All right, everyone, time to review,” she said briskly, striding up to the center of the room.
Her agents and techs gathered, and Senator Thebes pulled up a chair for his wife, whose bloodshot eyes were smudged with blue-black shadows. She reached for her husband’s hand, but after a moment of contact, he pulled away. Frank nodded to Maggie, his face grim. He understood how bad this was—Max Grayson had been privy to everything. He knew their people and their strategies. And now he was running scared.
It couldn’t get much worse. Any hope of a peaceful resolution was gone. People were going to get hurt—and Maggie had to make sure Kayla wasn’t one of them.
Maggie tried to ignore the way her wrists ached. She clenched her fists, resisting the urge to rub them. She looked up and saw Jake, towering over the group of FBI techs. He flashed her a quick smile, and the warmth it sparked inside her melted away the phantom pain.
Paul wheeled a whiteboard into the center of the circle of agents. Max Grayson’s photo was dead center.
Maggie pointed to the image. “This is our kidnapper: Max Grayson. He’s been working for the senator for almost two years as a policy advisor. His original ransom claim, the five million dollars he never followed up on? It was a distraction. This is not about money—it’s about politics.”
Maggie was all too aware of Senator Thebes scowling at her, furious at where she was heading. She swallowed, ignoring the fury radiating off him. It was for the greater good, she reminded herself. “What we now know is that Grayson really wants a classified file that only Senator Thebes has access to.”
Mrs. Thebes looked at the senator, her brow furrowed in confusion, and he resolutely looked anywhere but at his wife. Maggie’s stomach twisted, hating that it was the first time the woman had heard this bombshell. She hated that she had to be the one to break the news, but she knew better than to expect the senator to do it.
Maggie had to plead her case one last time to Thebes. It was a long shot, but maybe the outside pressure of all the agents and even his own wife staring at him would make him crumble. Maggie didn’t care about his reputation. She didn’t care if this lost him his job. She’d try anything. Kayla’s life was hanging in the balance of her father’s choices.
“Senator, Grayson’s not only well prepared. He’s not only two steps ahead. He’s working with inside knowledge. He’s been around all of us. He knows us. He knows how we work, he knows all the theories. He’s been manipulating this from the start, orchestrating it all. Outsmarting him without using the documents for bait is going to be difficult.”
“There is no way I can obtain the file,” Senator Thebes said. “We’ve gone through this, Kincaid. You need to find another way. Do your job. Get creative.”
Maggie had to look away as Mrs. Thebes muffled a sob at her husband’s refusal.
“Can you at least tell us why Grayson wants this file in particular?” Jake asked. He moved through the circle of agents and techs, taking his place next to Maggie. Instead of being annoyed by this move, she found herself glad to have someone beside her. She had to ramp up the pressure on Thebes.
“That would help,” Maggie said quickly. “I need to understand his motives—what he’s done, the lengths he’s gone to infiltrating your world. Whatever’s in that file is hugely important to him—more important than anything else. After years of planning, he’s not going to be appeased with money or false promises.”
“I don’t know why he wants the file,” the senator said. “How am I to know the inner workings of a madman’s mind? I’ve clearly been the target of this man for God knows how long, yet you seem unable to do anything about it.”
“Because you’re keeping things from us,” Jake barked, his voice ringing loudly through the room. Thebes grew still as a statue. Maggie could practically feel the people stiffening in anticipation of the senator’s response at being called out so boldly. No one else would dare to confront Thebes like this—well, no one but her. Her admiration for Jake’s take-no-prisoners attitude was almost as fast growing as her grudging attraction.
The senator leaned forward, lowering his voice. His cheeks were a mottled, embarrassed red as he rasped, “Are you calling me a liar, O’Connor?”
Jake seemed to grow even taller as he looked down at Thebes, contempt written all over his face. “If the shoe fits, Senator.”
“Okay,” Maggie interrupted before the man, whose face was rapidly turning purple, could respond. “Senator Thebes, why don’t you sit down next to your wife?” She snapped her fingers, and an agent brought another chair, setting it down next to Mrs. Thebes. “Jake . . .” she said pleadingly, looking at him.
“Thank you.” Maggie scanned the group of people watching her. Waiting for her to guide them. To save Kayla. She didn’t know if she was worthy of such faith. In fact, she was almost sure she wasn’t. “Our top priority right now—the only thing that really matters—is figuring out where Max Grayson has gone and where he’s keeping Kayla. If we know that, the file doesn’t matter.”
“There have been no sightings,” Paul said, coming forward. “I just called the police chief. He’s got squads across the entire city, and we’ve got agents everywhere, but so far, nothing.”
“What about his phone? Or phones. He had two last time I saw him,” Maggie said.
“I’ve got techs tracing them both,” Paul said. “But the signals are bouncing all over the world.”
Maggie turned to the whiteboard photo, staring at Max Grayson’s overly tanned face. Where was he? What was he feeling right now? He’d been so careful, he must have planned this for ages. What was so important to him that he’d do this? Throw everything he had—all the privilege, the power, the incredible income—down the drain for . . . what? What was in that file? What kind of information was so important that the senator wouldn’t even consider giving it up to save his only child? Hidden missile locations? Nuclear plant codes? Evidence of a deal gone wrong in a major agency?
And why did Grayson want them so badly? If it was merely a matter of acquiring information to sell on the black market, there were much easier ways of doing that. Especially with the access he had on the senator’s staff. This kind of elaborate plan, this focus, meant Grayson’s goals didn’t just involve whatever was in that file. It was about the senator himself. But until she discovered what was in the file, she wouldn’t know for sure.
Maggie was certain that the FBI getting the drop on him wasn’t part of Grayson’s plan. That’s what worried her the most. Max Grayson was a control freak. And when control freaks have to deviate from their plans, they tend to panic. Panic was a powerful thing, Maggie knew all too well. It was what had fueled her that night Erica had convinced her to run. It’d been the claws raking her throat as she ran through the woods, sobbing, aching, and terrified.