I looked at my watch. It was nearly midnight. Shit. I pulled out my phone and noticed all the missed calls from Zoe and Jed. I frowned.
“Everything alright, Ki?”
“I need to get going. I didn’t realize the time.”
I got up to leave when Reva placed her hand on my arm. “Ki, it will all work out. I just know it will.”
My worries eased into a smile. For whatever reason, I believed her. I kissed her cheek and left.
As I headed back down the peninsula, a call came through on the Bluetooth.
“Hello?”
“Ki, its Jed. Where the hell are you? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”
“I needed to do some thinking. What do you want?”
“Zoe’s gone, Ki,” his voice broke with emotion.
Fear clutched in my chest. At the rate I was going today, I would be gobbling antidepressants when I got home or end up dead from a massive coronary.
“What do you mean ‘gone’?”
“Zoe’s been kidnapped.”
Chapter 7
Zoe
Where was he? It was nearly eleven and no sign of Ki. My stomach churned with nausea as the carpet beneath my soles grew ever more worn from my nervous pacing. Five more minutes of absolute silence went by before I caved and called Flynn.
“Zoe, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
His light tone did nothing but further my anxiety. Leave it to Flynn to not have a care in the world even with the scandal swirling all around us.
“Have you seen Ki?” The words spilled from my mouth as if I’d been holding them back for days.
“I saw him after our scrimmage. We even had a friendly moment. Why, is something wrong?”
The lightheartedness in his voice turned serious.
“Flynn, Ki didn’t come home. I’ve tried calling him a hundred times, but I can’t reach him. I’m going crazy with worry.”
“Calm down. Do you want me to come over?”
“Yes, no, maybe? I don’t know, Flynn. I’m not sure that would be such a good idea.”
Ki was a stand-up guy, but I wasn’t sure how he’d react if he found Flynn and me together, no matter how innocent.
“Don’t worry. I’ll make some calls and get back to you. I’m sure he is fine. Try not to worry, okay?”
The sincerity in his voice brought tears to my eyes. It felt like old times when we were all close friends instead of a past tainting all the good times.
“Thanks, Flynn.” My voice cracked with emotion.
“Hold tight. I’ll call you back. I promise.”
I turned on the television to distract my mind. The local news was playing a video of Ki leaving the arena parking in his SUV while the commentator droned on about the Ki-angle. I growled inwardly. Jesus, who made up this shit? Disgusted, I changed the channel and settled on a mindless episode of Friends.
I was dozing off when my phone rang. I snatched it off the table. The display read Flynn Austin. Thank god.
“Flynn!”
“Zo, Brock saw Ki leaving the arena after five o’clock. He’s the last person to have seen him so far.”
Flynn’s tone was flat and matter of fact with a hint of worry. I knew Flynn. His tone gave me cause for concern.
A sob escaped me. I clasped my hand to my mouth to hold back the anguish. The world around me was shattering and I struggled to remain standing. “Oh god, what if something happened to him? I can’t lose him again.”
I knew an important part of me was operating solely on emotion, but I didn’t care. I hadn’t slept or eaten all day and my nerves were shot.
“I know he is alright, Zo. You need to calm down and just breathe.”
I heard him talking to someone in the background. I recognized the voice. It was Jesse. I’d forgotten all about her and Flynn. A feeling of desperation filled me. I dropped my phone next to me on the couch.
“Zo? Are you there? Zo?”
Ignoring Flynn, I got up in search of my purse. My hands trembled something fierce. Where was the damn thing? I eventually found the red leather clutch laying on the entry hall table. Rummaging through it, I became more undone with each breath. I grabbed my prescription and downed a pill. I knew it wouldn’t kick in for another hour, so I tried to settle my racing heart with a couple of breathing exercises the doctor had taught me. Once the panic in my chest eased, I returned to the living room. Flynn had hung up. I had a message waiting for me instead. I greedily read it and I was disappointed to find it was from Flynn.
Flynn: I’ll be there in 20.
Shit. I didn’t want him to come over. I dreaded a confrontation if Ki showed up while Flynn was here. But then again, Ki wasn’t here. That was the entire goddamned point. If he’d shown up as promised, none of this would be happening. My mind started to spiral again.
“Breathe,” I told myself.
I headed to the kitchen sink and doused my face with cold water. Wiping my face, my attention landed on the liquor cabinet. Booze and pills were a bad mix, but at this point I was desperate enough to try anything.
I pulled out this first bottle I could find, unscrewed the cap, and took a couple of swigs of vodka. The liquor burned my throat. I was tempted to do a few more shots, but I could hear Ki’s voice in my head warning me not to be reckless. I conceded and put the bottle back in the cabinet. I returned to the living room, sinking into the leather sofa with a sigh. Where are you, Ki?
There was a pounding on the door. It must be Flynn. Relief flooded my body.
“Coming!”
I leapt to my feet. My head spun. Wow… Maybe the vodka wasn’t such a great idea after all. The continual knocking on the door drew my attention. I shuffled to the door, unchained it, then disabled the alarm. As I turned the doorknob, the door was shoved open. I staggered back. The momentum sent me crashing backward onto the marble floor, knocking the wind out of me. Two large figures loomed over me with black fatigues and masks. What the…?! I scooted away from them but the drugs and alcohol in my system rendered me a sluggish, clumsy prey. A scream died in my throat as one of thugs grabbed me by the leg, yanking me towards him. I started kicking and squirming every which way I could imagine.
“Help!” I shouted from the top of my lungs when the second thug leaned over me and stuffed my mouth with a rag. I detected a strange smell before a sense of fatigue came over me. No… someone…help… My thoughts drifted into black.
Ralston Security
“Oh shit, dude! Look at the screen!” Richard yelled.
I sat up, startled out of a deep sleep. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Richard?”
“We’ve got trouble, Kyle.”
I frowned. He rarely used my first name. I was always dude. I put on my glasses and got up off my cot. We were both glued to the screen as we witnessed two men in black charge the front door and knock Miss Simmons down. I hopped to my feet, battle-ready before I remembered I was no match for those two bulldozers our subject was trying to fight off. Was she intoxicated? Her movements were slow and uncoordinated at best.
“Call 5 O from the secure line. They won’t be able to get a read on our location since our signal is scrambled,” I instructed Richard whose eyes were riveted to the screen as the scene played out. “Richard, move!”
“Shit, dude, they’re fucking kidnapping her. What the fuck should we do, Kyle?” Richard began to panic.
“Keep your voice down for one,” I cautioned him. “Call 911 from the secure line and report it.”
I pulled out my night vision binoculars and got the two perps in my sight. They were tying up Miss Simmons and stuffing a rag in her mouth. The bigger of the two wrapped her in a blanket and slung her over his shoulder as he walked down to a nondescript, black SUV with no plates. Figures. I did detect a sticker on the back bumper. I zoomed in close to snap a shot.
I could hear Richard on the phone calling in the kidnapping. Fuck. This contract just turned into a nightmare. It was one thing to surveil a subject. It was anot
her to be witness to an actual crime in progress. An idea sprang to mind.
“Richard, I know how we can protect Miss Simmons. Can you hack into the entrance gate so they can’t leave the community?”
“I’m on it.” He finished up his 911 call and began hacking into the security system.
I switched to the video feed on my binoculars to record the entire episode while Richard pounded away on his keyboard. My heart thudded rapidly as the large goon opened back of the SUV and chucked Miss Simmons’ inert body inside. Bile embittered my throat. I might have been guilty of spying, but I would never be rough with a woman, unlike these two assholes.
“Richard, have you accessed the system yet?” I hissed.
“I’m almost there. I just need to get past their firewall. Damn, whoever installed their security system didn’t fuck around. Normally, I can get past it in few keystrokes but– Okay, I’m in.”
“Shut it down.”
“Done and done.”
Another vehicle with dark tinted windows drove by. I couldn’t get a visual on the driver, but from their reduced speed I could tell they were witnessing the same thing as we were. They continued down the street and parked, their taillights glowing.
“We’ve got more company.”
“Got the plate number,” Richard said.
“Run it.”
“I’m running it now.”
I needed to know who all the players in this situation were. That way I could compile the evidence and send it to the cops from one of our accounts that was been routed through a series of untraceable servers.
Richard gave me a thumbs up with a dopey smile in his face. I glared in turn. Didn’t the jackass realize this was real life and not some Liam Neeson action flick?
“You have anything yet?” Adrenalin and frustration tinged my voice.
“Yep, the vehicle is registered to a Flynn Horatio Austin. Ha, Horatio, seriously?” Richard laughed.
“Shut up,” I snapped.
“Yo, dude, chill out.”
“Do you even know who Flynn Austin is?”
“No but I know who Julian Wilson and Adrian Buchan are.”
“What the fuck, man? Focus Richard. Flynn Austin is the Otters’ forward.”
“Who are the Otters?”
“You are unbelievable,” I sighed. “Austin is a professional hockey player. Didn’t you bother to read the dossier on Zoe Simmons at all?”
“I never got around to it,” Richard said sheepishly.
“Do you even know how to tie your own shoes?”
“No need to. I wear Van’s. Official shoe of the all surfers everywhere.”
“Cut the chit-chat. We’ve got movement.”
The black SUV’s taillights came on. It took off down the street only to be stopped at the gate. Our little diversion worked. I could hear sirens in the distance. The cops had a full description of the vehicle and the two suspects. I made sure to download all my photos and video feed to a detective I knew through the Santa Clara Sheriff’s Department. No doubt the case would be turned over to the FBI at some point. At least I could give the local law enforcement a head start and still maintain my anonymity.
I adjusted my binoculars as the SUV stopped at the front gate. The vapor from the tail pipe was visible in the night air. Several sheriff’s deputies arrived on scene, blocking the exit on the opposite side of the gate. I could hear a deputy instructing the two perps to get out of the car.
“Get the parabolic mic out.”
Under ideal conditions, our parabolic mic was so sensitive it detected the slightest noise up to a mile. As it was night, it was the perfect storm. I heard more shouting as if I was standing next to the deputy issuing them. Several other officers had shotguns primed and aimed at the vehicle.
“Got it.”
“Shit, they don’t know Miss Simmons is in the back of the SUV.”
“Oh fuck, dude, that’s not good.”
“Put a call in to Detective Benson.”
“Benson.”
“It’s Kyle.”
“Shit man, what kind of trouble are you into this time?”
“None, except we are witnessing the standoff between your deputies and the 207a going down now.”
“What the hell are you doing there?” My brother-in-law knew better than to ask me such questions.
“I just emailed you a slew of evidence and you’re welcome by the way.”
Ralston Security had helped Bryan Benson solve more cases in Santa Clara County than any other detective. Discovery Channel had even approached him to do a reenactment show highlighting his most famous cases. Being the hard-ass he was, Bryan turned them down flat along with a lucrative deal. My sister was shackled to one of the most stubborn and brilliant men I knew. Aside from yours truly.
“I’ll give it to the usual channels.”
“Tell dispatch their hostage is in the back of the vehicle and do it quickly. These assholes aren’t going down without a fight,” I warned.
“I’ll get right on that. Thanks, Kyle.”
“Just save Zoe Simmons. She’s a nice woman.”
I killed the call.
Chapter 8
Ki
When I reached the hospital, Flynn was waiting for me and he didn’t look too pleased by the scowl on his face. I felt I owed him an explanation though I wanted nothing more than to see Zoe.
“Where the hell have you been?!”
“I needed some time to myself to think. Then I got the call from Jed and came straight the hospital. Is she okay?”
“Something happened,” I blurted.
My former best friend gave me a hard stare. By the looks of his pair of old sweats, an old Otters t- shirt, and a ballcap, he’d been dragged out of bed. I realized I just wanted all the pent-up animosity and hate to go away. Despite his flagrant behavior, I missed my best friend. I wanted to go back to when he felt like my brother, not my enemy. I needed to make amends with him and with my past.
I heaved a sigh. “You’re right, man.” At this point, I was weary and near exhaustion.
A hint of a smile crossed Flynn’s lips. “About time.” He pulled me into a rough hug and slapped me on the back, then released me. “You need to go after her.”
“I know.” There were so many conflicting things rattling around my brain—first and foremost, what the hell would I tell Zoe? The words were stuck in my throat.
“What’s wrong?”
“You won’t believe it.”
“Try me.”
“My mother is Zoe’s aunt.” I let the words settle over Flynn. His eyes went wide as he realized what I was telling him.
“What the fuck, man? That makes Zo your—”
“I know.” I cut him off before could say the words. “That’s the reason my mother stopped our wedding three years ago.”
“Fuck me. Is it even legal?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been in a state of perpetual shock since I learned the news. I left practice and just drove, ending up at that little coffee shop we used to hang out on Third Street in San Mateo.”
“Is Reva still there?” Flynn asked with a faraway look in his eyes.
I knew exactly what he was thinking. All the good times we used to have there. All the late nights after home games when we took the girls up there and talked until sunrise. Three years seemed more like a century ago. Three years I couldn’t get back. Time marched on despite the chaos spiralling around my life. None of it mattered. It was all minutia. The only thing that mattered right now was making sure Zoe was okay.
“Yep. Nothing changed,” I mused.
“How’d you find out about the whole…you know?”
I dug my hands in my pockets and looked down at the ground. The gravity of the situation plagued my every thought. Despite everything, standing here with Flynn like old times eased the burden a little. It became easier to breath and share my problems. Little by little, I was allowing him back into my life—and I liked the feeling. A small piece of me
that I thought broken forever had begun to mend.
“Jed confirmed everything. That’s why he summoned me to his office after practice. The weird part is my mother was there when he dropped the bomb on me. I blew up and told them both to fuck off.” It hadn’t been my brightest move. Jed controlled my fate, after all. The only saving grace was that I finally got to confront him about his shitty treatment of Zoe. Maybe they could reconcile after all? The question remained how the news I carried would affect Zoe and me.
“Kudos. You’ve got balls, Sly.” Flynn smirked.
“Come on, let’s go find Zoe.”
Flynn’s eyes widened in surprise at my suggestion. “You want me to come with you?”
“I’m leaving the past behind, which includes the bad blood between us. We both fucked things up, I know. And some of the crap was beyond our control, admittedly. I’m sorry for any part I might’ve played. I’d rather have you stand beside me as friend than across from me as an enemy. Besides, I need you to have my back as the power forward on the team.”
“Even though I fucked Zoe?”
My eyes narrowed at Flynn. Leave it to him to stir up shit when I was desperately trying to leave the past where it belonged—behind me.
“I fucked Jesse, so where does that leave us?”
“Fucked.” A slight smirk raised the edge of his mouth, easing the tension between us.
I conceded his point. “You’re always gonna be an asshole, aren’t you?”
“I majored in assholery in college.”
“Come on, then let’s go see my girl.”
“Dude, you need to go solo on this mission. I gotta get home to Jesse before she goes ballistic. She wasn’t exactly thrilled Zoe called me to begin with. If I call and tell her I am with you because Zoe’s at the hospital, there will be hell to pay.”
“How are things going with you two anyway?” I asked him.
“Honestly, we have a lot of things to iron out. We’re trying. I think we need some counseling or something. We’re dealing with some pretty fucked up shit.”
I nodded. Between the four of us, we were nothing short of a Dr. Phil show.
“Fair enough. Best of luck, mate.”
On Ice, A Hockey Romance Page 7