She actually laughed. “Oh, Kellen, he was an ass when I married him. But I loved him anyway, and I still do. We’ll get through this. It’s the resurfacing after you get plunged in it that’s hard.”
It seemed she was already above water. She patted his hand then withdrew both of hers with a sigh.
“I can’t believe he left you alone like this.”
But she waved that off and refilled her teacup. “You know he had to go do damage control. I’m fine. All right,” she admitted when he raised his eyebrows, “I will be. You don’t need to worry about me.”
His phone buzzed in his pocket, reminding him of the mess he’d left. He wanted to be here for his mother, but she’d laid out the reasons she didn’t need him, and Zoe did.
He stood again. “Mom, I’m really sorry, but I can’t stay.”
She rose, also, her chin raised. “Oh, darling, I don’t expect you to. I don’t even know why you came, since you obviously didn’t know about all this.”
He didn’t know what to say. Not without explaining everything, and there just wasn’t time for that. “I wanted to check on Olivia.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve called her every day, which is about four times as much as usual. What happened?” Fear flashed in her eyes. “Has something changed? Is she in further danger?”
“No. I don’t think so. Especially now that she’s in Europe.” He shoved a hand through his hair and tried to decide what to tell her that wouldn’t hold him here too long. “It’s a long story.”
“I know.”
Now his eyebrows went up. “What do you mean, you know?”
She shrugged. “You’ve missed work. James is running interference for you. Tanicia called Genovese to confirm your tux size and preferences, but was cagey about where you were and the event you needed it for. And you showed up in the middle of the day on a Tuesday, which didn’t ring a bell until it was clear you didn’t know what had happened. The fear in your expression hasn’t left since you arrived.” She laid a hand on his forearm. “Is Zoe okay?”
An awful burn hit his eyes. He blinked. “I don’t know. Maybe not. Maybe really not.”
“Then you’d better go.” She took him by the elbow and started ushering him toward the door. Her posture was stiffer, her color better. Stronger when focusing on others than on herself. “I’m sure you’ll tell us everything when it’s over. Olivia doesn’t have her phone with her. We bought her a temporary phone, something basic, and told her it was so hers wouldn’t get lost. I’ll have Genovese send you the number, but you should be careful about when you use it. You probably didn’t need me to say that. Be careful, Kell.” She angled her head for a kiss on the cheek, so he obliged.
But guilt wasn’t absolved so easily. “Mom, I’m sorry. I’d stay if this wasn’t—life-or-death important.”
She seemed to understand that he wasn’t exaggerating. “It’s all right, sweetheart. Just please be careful. Don’t put yourself in harm’s way if you can avoid it. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Tell Dad—”
“I will.”
Her words stuck with him as he headed back to the airport. He’d been furious with Zoe for making decisions that could put his sister at risk, for not trusting him with her secrets, and that had made it a struggle to know if their relationship could be salvaged. Not their love, because that wasn’t going away. But he’d seen her actions as a reflection of her lack of respect for him instead of what it really was. She valued him more than she valued herself.
What she’d done today proved it, and he hated how that made him feel. Despondent and weak when he should be strong.
He needed his rage back.
* * *
Grant was ready for the fist that plowed into his face. He allowed it. Welcomed the pain that blasted through his cheekbone and rattled through his skull. After all, he was the professional. He should never have let Zoe trick him.
But he’d be damned if he’d take more than that from Kellen Stone.
He dodged the second swing, but Stone surprised him. Instead of being thrown off balance, he anticipated Grant’s move and followed him, plowing his shoulder into Grant’s midsection and knocking him against the wall of the FBI conference room. Grant’s breath whooshed out, leaving room for anger to blow in. He shoved Stone away by the shoulders and positioned himself to block the next blow, to throw a solid punch of his own.
But Kell was clearly beyond simple anger. He didn’t charge or swing at Grant again. He grabbed a chair and threw it at him.
“Fuck!” Grant ducked, but the chair bounced off the cement wall and landed on him. He staggered, pain lancing across his lower back. Damn this guy. He wasn’t taking this. All his frustration and impotence since he realized the plane was leaving the gate without Zoe built like a pressure bomb in his chest. When Stone came at him, Grant released it with a punch straight in the face, a blow calculated to flatten his opponent. Satisfaction was a cooling balm as Stone hit the floor. Grant knew from experience that Stone wouldn’t be able to see past the exploding lights and shocking pain. He bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting for the lawyer to recover, itching to knock him back again.
And the bastard surprised him. Again. He didn’t roll and moan, though he did hold his hands to his face. After a scant couple of seconds, he swept his legs around Grant’s—one in front, one in back—and sent Grant slamming to the ground beside him.
The impact left him stunned, giving Stone time to get on top of him. He got in a couple of lightweight blows, one off his ear, before Grant flipped him.
“I didn’t do this!” he growled, trying to hold Kell down. “It’s not me you want!”
“The hell it’s not!” Kell stopped attempting to get free. He glared up at Grant. “You’re trying to take her from me, you asshole, and I still trusted you to keep her safe!”
“I tried!” Grant shifted to let Kell up, braced to be attacked again. “She’s a grown woman who makes her own decisions. She tricked us both, and don’t think I don’t blame myself!” The reality of what she’d done hit him, and he doubled over, bracing his hands on his knees, nausea coming in ever-increasing waves. What Pat and Freddy could be doing to her…carving her up, raping her, torturing her—every horrible thing he’d seen in his career, everything they’d done to Jordie, flashed into his brain. He’d kept it at bay as long as he could work, plan, prepare, but that just made it worse when he broke. His breath sobbed out of him and he swallowed hard, trying not to throw up. Embarrassing himself in front of the competition was a good deterrent.
A hand patted his shoulder, hesitantly, then squeezed. “It’s all right,” Kell said heavily. “She’ll be okay.” He actually sounded like he believed it, and Grant snorted and straightened, shaking his head at the other man’s abrupt shift.
“Sure. We’ll get to her. They won’t have time to do anything.” He sounded less convincing.
Kell slowly bent to right the chair he’d thrown, then lowered himself into it, his head dropping back. “What are we doing here, man? Why aren’t we in on this?”
“FBI regulations. This is much bigger now, and official, finally. Henricksen can’t let us near them.”
“So?” Kell slammed a hand on the table next to him. “Since when do you defer to the FBI?”
Grant’s mouth twitched but didn’t make it to full-blown smile. “I work with them all the time.” He’d made his own plans, but he couldn’t say that here at the FBI field office, where they were being monitored.
Now Kell snorted, and it sounded a lot more elegant than Grant’s had. “Not like this.”
“Henricksen—”
“I know. He’s competent.”
“And he cares.” Something Grant saw less and less of…and felt less of, himself, until it had become personal. “He’ll get her back.”
On cue, the door opened. Henricksen scanned them with an unreadable look. “You guys done?”
“For now.” Kell prodded at his swelling nose. “Where
is she?”
“We lost transmission.”
Grant and Kell swore together.
“I know. We’re closing in on her last known location, but we don’t know what caused the signal loss. It could be simple malfunction.”
Grant didn’t believe that and doubted anyone else did. “How long?”
“A couple more hours.” He shook his head when they cursed again. “They’re not where we expected them to be. We have limited resources here and no second team we can mobilize. We’re doing the best we can.”
It’s not good enough echoed around the room, though it went unspoken.
After a moment, Henricksen said, “I’ll keep you guys posted,” and left. Grant paced, his mind racing with plans and no way to execute them. He had people who could help, who owed him favors or would let him owe them later. He’d called a few of them, and they were on their way to Columbus. He could also make some guesses about what they’d be going into and plan the extractions of both Zoe and Carling. But none of that did him any good if he couldn’t find out where they were. Right now, the best way to do that was through the FBI.
Except Henricksen wouldn’t give it to him, the bastard. He was too smart, and too cautious to risk Grant and his team interfering. Grant could be standing here, filling the room with resentment and fighting with his prime rival for the woman he loved, when they told him she was dead.
It was an unacceptable possibility, and one he had no way of preventing.
* * *
Kell watched Grant pace for a while, but the echo of his footsteps grated and his circular pattern made him dizzy. He’d been popping antacids since he left the airport in San Francisco and hadn’t had anything but coffee since. Dizziness didn’t improve the mix.
God, this sucked. At least before, they were doing something. Tracking leads, following a plan. Grant probably had one up in his head, just biding his time until he could implement it. Kell knew he he had the resources and experience to get it done. And the guts. All Kell had was hours of crime-drama-watching experience, in which the fretful fiancé fell apart when they delivered the bad news.
He couldn’t be that guy. He’d have to find a way to go along when Grant mobilized. Geez, listen to him. He shoved his hands into his hair and rested his elbows on the table, staring without seeing the reflection of the overhead light in the metal. Listening to anyone else who sounded like this would make him laugh. Mobilized, for God’s sake. He’d be a liability in a mission like that, even an unsanctioned one. Sure, he’d held his own so far, but that was when it was just the three of them. He’d shown Zoe he could be just as strong, just as protective, without taking over. But put him in a real situation? With bigger stakes? He could fuck it up, and Zoe would be the casualty.
Kell launched to his feet and went two steps before halting. No way could he pace in this small space with Grant already prowling. He leaned against the wall furthest from Grant and checked e-mail on his phone with faint hope for some kind of lead, something new to concentrate on. Nothing from Rhomney or from Zoe. A few messages from work, fires Tanicia could put out on her own—and had, he saw as he scrolled on. Nothing to distract him from the numbing nothingness in this room.
Grant’s footsteps stopped and Kell glanced up to find him staring off into space. Or maybe at the video camera in the corner. He scrolled again. James had e-mailed. He opened it, and found only CALL ME with six exclamation points. With a sense of dread, he hit the speed dial for James’ office number and lifted the phone to his ear. Grant’s phone rang at the same time.
“Hey, man,” James answered. “Hold on.”
Kell’s heart raced as he listened to his friend instruct his paralegal to hold calls. He’d asked him to monitor things and let him know if they got worse. The sound of the office door closing didn’t help.
“Sorry about that. I have an update on your father’s situation.”
“What happened?”
“Well, as your mother expected, they found out about the affair. One of the bigger media outlets already tracked down the woman. She refused to talk to anyone, but they’re dragging up her history, and it isn’t pretty.”
Kell pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed. The timing of this couldn’t be worse. Then his head came up. Of course it couldn’t. He’d bet anything Rhomney had something to do with this. The other threats hadn’t stopped them, so they were trying to break up Zoe’s support system this way. Probably figured Kell would run back to Mommy and Daddy and far away from Zoe.
They’d underestimated him.
“There’ve been reporters here,” James told him, “but since you weren’t, they drifted away. Still, you being on a leave of absence isn’t helping.”
“Thanks for letting me know.”
“When are you coming back? We can only do damage control for so long.”
“I know, and I can’t ask you to do more. But I’ve got bigger things going on.”
James whistled. “Bigger than family scandal? What is it?”
“It’s Zoe.” He hesitated. James’ anticipation rose on the other end of the line. What the hell. It wasn’t like anything was happening here. “She’s been abducted. Kind of.” After James got the what-the-fucks out of the way, he encapsulated her past and what had been happening since she broke up with him. He left Grant out of the story.
“Holy shit, man. What can I do?”
“Just hold down the fort as best as you can. I don’t know how much longer this is going to play out. I’ll need my job when it’s all over.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll run interference for you. But jeez, man.”
“I know.”
The door opened and Henricksen walked in, without a remnant of his usual implacability. He looked mournful, and Kell’s heart not only sank, it left his body, ripping hard as it did. No. Please, no. On the other side of the room, Grant said goodbye to whomever was on the phone. Kell didn’t bother, just shoved his phone into his pocket.
“What happened?”
Henricksen braced his hands on the back of a chair and shook his head. “We were too late. They got to the location they’d tracked and found her phone, smashed, but no one was there. Plenty of evidence it was Rhomney and Thomashunis, plus a bunch of other people.”
Kell’s heart started beating again, but his lungs constricted now. They hadn’t found Zoe dead, but not finding her wouldn’t have put that look on Henricksen’s face. “They found something else.”
Henricksen nodded slowly.
“What?”
He looked up, his eyes haunted. “Lots of blood.”
* * *
Grant approached his shack with a combination of exhaustion and jittery urgency. No matter how much he worked, he didn’t travel in a month as much as he’d traveled in the last week. His body kept sending him signals that he needed to crash for about twenty-four hours. Like now, when he lifted his right foot to go up the steps, and it didn’t go high enough, and he came close to smashing his face into the deck.
On the other hand, his brain sent opposing signals, telling him to run-not-walk to Zoe, calling him a moron for coming back here when she was in Ohio. It kept trying to send him back to the docks for the next boat out.
But right before Henricksen told them they’d lost Zoe’s signal, Grant had been on the phone with his mother. She wanted to see how things were going, if Zoe had contacted him, how they were getting along, wink-wink-nudge-nudge. She’d asked about the package she sent, and at first he just thought she meant the articles she’d faxed and e-mailed before all this started. But after Henricksen dropped his bomb, after Stone fell completely apart and Henricksen led him off to find someplace to pull himself together, her words had come back to him. She’d specifically said package. And he hadn’t gotten one. When he called her back to ask about it, she confessed she’d sent him some of Jordie’s old things. Nothing exciting, just some stuff she’d packed away when she cleaned out his room years ago. She’d found it in the attic and thought he might like to ha
ve some of it, since she was pretty sure he didn’t have much.
Grant should have dismissed it. It should have had nothing to do with what was going on with Zoe. But instinct screamed at him to get home and find it. He rarely ignored his instincts, and he was tired of being impotent and scared. So he’d flown home.
He managed to get inside the shack and flipped on the light switch, which lit a small table lamp next to his one comfortable chair. A figure moved and he jerked, reaching for a gun he wasn’t wearing. But it wasn’t a threat.
It was Zoe.
“Where is it, Grant?”
Her voice rasped, the sound of someone who had screamed over and over. Like at a concert. Or during torture. It shook with fear but held a core of steel that told him she was on a mission he would not deter her from.
But she was alive.
He dropped his duffel in the corner and tensed his jaw so he wouldn’t yell at her for tricking him. “I thought you were in Ohio.”
“I left.”
“You should call Stone. He’s pretty—”
“Where is it?” She shot out of the chair, eyes blazing, hands fisted. But then she swayed and did a vague eye-blink-head-shake thing, and he knew she was as dead on her feet as he was.
“Where is what? What happened? How did you get here? Your funds were almost depleted.”
“Flew. Boat. Credit card. None of that matters.” She drew a deep breath, her spine lengthening as she visibly drew strength from nothing. Her jaw barely moved as she gritted out, “Pat has Will and a girl. Not Olivia, I don’t think.” She inhaled a quick half-sob.
“Olivia’s in Europe.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“There was some kind of— Never mind. She’s safe in Europe with her aunt and uncle. Pat can’t get to her.”
She sagged, and he lurched to grab her and help her back into the chair she’d been sitting in.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I mean, it does, but he’s got someone else. And he threatened if I don’t bring it. Two days. Fast—I have to move fast. God, I’m so tired.” She slumped over, her head dropping onto her arms in her lap. But she kept talking. “I took the FBI phone with me to meet with Pat. I thought Henricksen understood what I was going to do and would follow the signal.”
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