What might have been an apology lit Miranda’s teary eyes. “I won’t call the cops.”
Earl grabbed Lauren’s arm. “Where’s your husband?”
Out front. Please let them leave out the front. Earl yanked Lauren deeper into the bank. If she could have let Miranda know Ryder was out front, maybe the woman could get word to him, but Earl kept them separated. Maybe if Earl left her alone, she could text Ryder. Maybe he’d put her in the trunk again. Or surely Ryder would come into the bank soon. He had told her five minutes, and it felt like hours had passed in the dim light of the bank.
Following like a sheep to slaughter rubbed her wrong, but Lauren refused to let the women in the bank get hurt, so she didn’t resist. Once they were out of the bank, all bets were off. They breezed through a break room with no sign of the perky Shelby before leaving out the staff entrance. The sports car from the first night was parked straight back in the staff lot. The shiny black paint glistened in the sun, the kind of car that made young men dream. “You weren’t here earlier.” They’d checked the staff lot before going inside the first time.
“Doctor’s appointment.” Earl led her outside, but Lauren dug her heels in, not willing to climb inside the car that had stolen her from Ryder less than seventy-two hours ago. “I’m not getting in that car.”
“Your chance to bargain is over. You left the bank. I might not have a gun on the brat, but Miranda’s boy is another story. She told you about her son, right?”
They stood on the back patio where workers could take breaks or smoke, but it was empty. Lauren withheld an answer.
“He’s autistic. And he’s been without his meds for—” Earl twisted his wrist to look at his watch. “At least twenty-four hours.”
“You took him after Ryder blew up the meth house.” Maybe after the failed lunch between Smythe and Miranda, which Ryder had also interrupted.
Earl hit the fob on his keychain and the car unlocked with a chirp. He dug hands into Lauren’s bicep, bruising the tender flesh as he hauled her across the small lot. “It would have happened anyway. Miranda caught one of the checks I deposited to the wrong account, but she thought it was an accident so she came to me instead of going to the manager.”
Deadly mistake. Miranda had caught onto the scam, but didn’t realize how deep it went. That’s why she was at lunch with Smythe. Lauren hoped she could reason with Earl before he took her to the realtor. “You know Smythe’s going down.”
Earl opened the passenger and shoved her into the seat. “Smythe’s no longer calling the shots.”
The hair stood on the back of her neck. “He wasn’t smart enough to call the shots to begin with.”
“You’re right about that, but we needed a realtor. He worked for a while and now he doesn’t. Scoot over.” Earl shoved her over the stick shift as he slid into the seat. Once in the car he removed the gun from his holster.
Her day was definitely getting worse. The hangover still pounded in her temples, aggravated by the fresh flow of fear.
“You’re driving.”
On any other day, she’d love a chance to drive the sports car, but doing it at gunpoint made her hands sweaty. “I don’t know how to drive a stick.”
He cuffed her on the back of the head where the still raw cut pounded. “Don’t lie. Your pickup was a stick.”
It was worth a shot. Lauren swallowed her fear as she twisted the key. The engine roared to life like a powerful animal stretching awake. The power revved up the stick and into her hand as she put the car into reverse. “Where to?”
“Where I tell you to go. Go to the street and turn left.”
Away from Ryder. If she disappeared with this guy, she was dead. “Who is calling the shots?”
“Not your problem.”
Actually, it was her problem. She’d like to know who planned to kill her. Lauren drove to the street and looked both ways. Lunch traffic was increasing and the little sports car was lower to the ground than her pickup. She struggled to get a better view of the scene. Finally, she adjusted the seat forward, but she still felt like she was riding on the ground. Her heart pounded, but she knew she couldn’t turn left from here. Traffic was one thing, but leaving without Ryder seeing her was a death sentence. When traffic opened up, she turned to the right.
“I told you left.”
“I couldn’t see the traffic and it’s too busy to turn left. I’ll make a U-turn up ahead.” The tremble in her voice didn’t need to be faked. Her heart pounded, the pulse like a smack in every bruise and scrape on her body. She passed the parking lot and saw Ryder leaning against the truck; turned away to speak to Rose. Her heart dropped. No way had he seen her leave.
Hell and damnation. She was on her own.
Ryder tapped the phone to wake it up. “It’s been longer than five minutes. I’m going inside.”
“You’ll blow it.”
“When your wife goes into an unknown environment in the middle of an op, then you can judge.”
“I don’t have a wife.”
“My point exactly. Keep your eyes open, numbnuts.”
Ryder followed a heavyset man into the bank where a toddler was throwing a fit. The mother held the kid who arched her back away. “What do you mean, he left?”
“Emergency.” The redhead looked past the unhappy woman. Her eyes widened when she saw Ryder.
“He had me waiting.” The kid shoved a fistful of Cheerios into her mouth.
“I’m sorry, ma’am.” The redhead was trying to soothe the lady and failing miserably. “This wasn’t planned. He was in a car accident yesterday and there were complications.”
A petite blonde called the heavyset man forward. Lauren was nowhere in sight. There wasn’t a public restroom. Everything in Ryder went on alert. Obviously Rose had missed something, because there had been a male in the bank if the harried mother was any indication. A man who left rather unexpectedly.
Ryder pulled out his phone and opened an app. In a few short moments, it showed a blip not at the bank where it belonged. Damnit, Lauren had gotten out of the bank and onto the street. He walked up to the redhead, interrupting the customer’s loud rant. “Where did he go?”
She looked up at him and stepped back two paces. “I don’t know.”
The mouthy customer flapped her mouth, but no words came out. Ryder mentally dismissed her as he stepped into the redhead’s space. “I saved you from Smythe yesterday and this is how you repay me?”
“I, uh.” Tears welled in her eyes, but Ryder wasn’t moved by tears. “He has my son.”
“Who does? Smythe?” Was there no end to the prick’s evil?
“No. Earl.”
“Who is Earl?”
The mother stepped forward, adding to the chaos. “My banker.” She flipped the child to her other hip. “Actually, you know what? Tell him I’m taking my business to another bank. And I’m contacting the branch manager.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The redhead’s shoulders drooped. “That’s probably for the best.”
The woman followed the heavyset man out the door.
“Is Earl the man who left with my wife?” Ryder moved forward, crowding the redhead and forcing her to look up at him.
“Yes, and, uh…”
Ryder wanted to shake the woman, but held back. Now he understood why Lauren got pissed whenever he cut off mid-sentence. “And?”
She took a deep breath, her shoulder shaking when she released it. “And he’s the one who misdirected your deposits. I saw his mistake and went to him to correct it.”
“I’m glad it wasn’t you.” He didn’t want to have to ruin the woman’s life, but he would. “You need to inform the bank manager about what you discovered.”
Full-on tears dripped down her face, dropping down her chin unchecked. “They’ll hurt my son.”
“Not if I get to them first. Where were they headed?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
Ryder looked down at the app, showing Lauren still moving across t
own. “I’ll find them. In the meantime, call the bank manager.”
“But—”
“I’ll find your son.” What the hell was he doing, promising this woman anything? “As long as you keep my name out of it. Lauren’s too. Out of the bank reports, the investigation, and the police. Everything. You don’t know me, never saw me, and don’t know anything about my accounts. Got it?”
She nodded. “How will I know my son is safe?”
Ryder promised to text when he had her son. He added her number to his contacts and headed out. He climbed into the truck, and the calmness that should have been panic set his nerves on edge. This time, he let the anger loose. Somebody was fucking dying today. “There was a man in there. Personal banker in the fucking cubicle that you missed.” He tightened his fists, wanting to let loose, but if he took his anger out on Rose, they wouldn’t be at top form when they needed it most. “The limp dick took Lauren and the redhead’s son.”
“Who?” Rose started the engine and headed into traffic.
“Some asshole named Earl.” Ryder directed Rose towards the constantly moving blip on his phone.
“You tagged her?”
“Her phone.” Ryder watched the blip, willing her to be safe. “Months ago. It’s how I tracked her to the meth house.”
“There will be hell to pay when she finds out.”
“She’ll understand.”
Rose snorted. “I barely know her and I know better. You’re delusional if you think she’ll blindly go along with you tagging her.”
“As long as she’s still alive.” Ryder watched the locator like a heart monitor. It was the one thing tethering him to Lauren. They drove for long minutes in silence, with only the occasional direction interrupting the blasted country music. Ryder reached up and flipped off the radio. It might be Rose’s truck, but he wasn’t listening to another minute of music that was feeding his anger. “The redhead just found out about the misdirected deposits.”
“Which is probably why she was at lunch with Smythe. Trying to put the moves on her the way he had his other victims.”
“Only she got away, so they kidnapped her kid.”
“Shit, Ryder, this isn’t exactly our area of expertise.”
“Today it is. We still can’t involve the police for the same reason. I told the woman I’d get her kid in exchange for keeping my name out of it.”
“Anyone else you want to save, Superman? It’s just you and me and we don’t have a clue what we’re walking into.”
“You got a better plan? Because I’d be damn happy to hear someone else’s great plan to get my fucking wife back from these fuckers before they fucking hurt her.”
Rose drove in silence for several miles. At a stoplight, he turned to Ryder. “Why don’t we get Craft on this? He can pull Earl’s financials and all the evidence he has about the housing scam. He can forward it to bank, so they start working the banking side of the investigation. That frees Craft—”
“To follow the lawyer. When he realizes his castle is crumbling, he’ll bail. Most of the money is probably overseas right now. Good bet the legal eagle will have an egress plan. I hate for Craft to work alone at the ranch. Someone already knows about the place. Easy way to get killed. Ryder shot off a text. “I’m looking to see how far Fowler is from joining the party.” Ryder flipped over to the tracking app and noticed the trend in direction. “He’s taking her to our townhouse.”
“Did you say they were setting up another lab situation?”
“Which means a couple guards, maybe more after what we did at the last place.” Ryder’s mind whirled with contingency plans.
“And more innocents.”
“I don’t consider the lab pogues to be innocents.”
“No, but there’s the redhead’s kid at minimum, and kids are unpredictable.”
“But we know the layout. The downstairs is all open space, so no walling off a room like they did at the last place. We’ll be able to see everything.”
“They’ll see us coming.”
“But we’re better than they are. Meaner. Stronger.”
“Angrier,” Rose finished.
Ryder nodded and did what he’d fought since the day they’d heard about Kandahar. Ryder let the beast loose; let the rage flood his veins and feed his energy. He didn’t need fear or adrenaline. He’d kill every last man, woman, or child who had a hand in taking Lauren from his side. No one would survive.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The boy pounded his head back against the wall, wailing in anger or frustration. He hadn’t said a word since Earl had tossed her into the little guestroom she had used as an office. The boy looked to be upper elementary aged. He had long skinny legs, dark curly hair that was currently fingered into a frenzy, like he’d been electrocuted with everything standing on end.
Earl opened the door and stuck his head inside. “Get him to shut his mouth or I’ll kill him.” He glanced at Lauren. “Your choice. You can keep him alive until the boss gets here, but there are too many people around for that kind of racket.”
“Not as nice here as the last digs, huh? Too many nosy neighbors.”
“Yes, that fucker next door keeps knocking on the door like the welcome wagon.”
Callahan had been a decent neighbor, checking on her when Ryder left, because he thought Ry was on deployment. Yeah, he’d probably wondered what had happened to them. She’d packed up her stuff and moved out without warning anyone, and now she could really use a nosy neighbor. Unfortunately, the soldier didn’t get back from post until six o’clock on most days, and Lauren had a feeling she didn’t have that long. Earl had taken her phone so she couldn’t text Ryder. She had to find a way out of the house on her own before the boss showed.
The boy smacked his head against the wall, leaving a dent in the drywall.
“Five minutes,” Earl warned before slamming the door closed and locking it. They’d switched the knob so they could lock it from the outside. Psychos.
Lauren crawled across the carpet. The room was empty, but there were still divots in the carpet where her desk had stood. The levered bi-fold doors to the closet were closed and dark plastic covered the window. As soon as she shut the boy up, she’d take that down. The dim overhead light didn’t do much to dispel the fear that she’d never leave this room. Never feel the sun on her face.
“Hey.” She tapped the boy’s leg. “What’s your name?”
The racket he was pounding into the wall stopped for two beats and he opened his eyes. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” He resumed the pounding, but kept his eyes open this time.
“I’m not a stranger.” She was as strange as they came. She probably looked like a complete whack-job to the kid, but she needed him to calm down, because she couldn’t let Earl kill the boy. “I know your mom.”
Again, the steady beat of his head against the wall paused. “How?”
“We met at the bank where she works. I’m a customer, but, uh, she told me about you. She’s worried about you.”
He glanced up, not quite looking her in the eye. “If you know her, what’s her name?”
“Miranda. And my name is Lauren. What’s yours?”
He tapped his head back as he rocked against the wall, but softer this time. “Caleb. Do you really know my mom?”
“Yes. And she’s really worried.”
Caleb swallowed. “I’m hungry.”
“They haven’t fed you?” The shake of his head hit a trigger to her anger. Anger was probably good. “How about we try to get out and get some lunch?”
“They won’t let us out.”
Now that the boy was quiet, Lauren turned to the window. She yanked the black plastic off. The sun felt like heaven as it streamed through. She tossed the plastic to the floor.
“They come in if you yell,” he said, as if anticipating her moves. “And they hit. They need consequences if they hit.”
“Definitely.” Ryder could rain some serious consequences on Earl and team, bu
t first she had to find a way to get a message to him. Or to get out. She opened the window and pushed the screen out. She looked down at her small yard, fenced off from a row of six similar yards. No one was outside this time of day. Most of her neighbors were working couples.
A dog was in the third postage stamp yard. The HOA forbid dogs, but apparently the owner didn’t care. The dog was quiet, so she’d never heard him. He was just curled into a ball on the four-foot patch of dirt that was supposed to be a flower garden. Lauren looked the other way, but even the yards in the adjacent row of townhouses were empty.
“It’s ten feet from window sill to window sill.” Caleb’s voice had a strange emotionless quality. “It’s six feet from the ground to the first window sill for a total of sixteen feet from the second story window to the ground.”
Lauren turned. He hadn’t moved from his spot, but he was no longer rocking. “How do you know that?”
“Firemen have to estimate target height and they use ten feet from window sill to window sill. I did a report in school.”
“You’re really smart, Caleb.”
“I can’t climb sixteen feet. Not even with a rope.”
“Me either.” If they were held in the master bedroom, there was a deck, so maybe—a big maybe—she could dangle off the edge to get safely to the ground, but not a straight sixteen feet. “Do you know how many people are in the house?”
He shook his head no. “If we were on the third floor it would be twenty-six feet, and if we were on the fourth floor it would be thirty-six feet.”
“Thanks, Caleb. You did that really well.” Lauren stared back out the window. The kid wouldn’t be much help getting out. Like her, he didn’t have any experience with kidnapping. Lauren frowned. Actually, she did have experience as a kidnap victim, but Ryder had been there. This time, he wasn’t even on her trail. She had to find her own way out. “Your mom was right. You’re super smart.”
“I can do all my times tables faster than anyone at school. I’m really fast.”
Live By The Team (Team Fear Book 1) Page 19