by Desiree Holt
Josh shook his head and followed the two men outside. They lowered themselves into three of the ancient rockers lined up. Caine took a swallow of his beer and looked at the two of them.
“Okay, who’s giving me the details?”
“Josh is.” Nick inclined his head. “I’m just here because, like I said earlier, this will be as invisible as we can make it but still run through me at the Guardian offices. Whatever you need, we’ll supply.”
“So.” Ethan nodded at Josh. “You haven’t had any word about or sign of the kid in three months?”
Josh shook his head. “Nada. Lisa’s about to lose her mind. Jamie and I are all she has.”
“Tell me about your sister.” Caine began rocking slowly. “How did she end up with a piece of slime like Mallory in the first place?”
“Not a new story.” Josh studied his hands. “She was the bright light at Rivas, Burke, and Doyle. Youngest ever to be fast-tracked for partnership. She ate opposing counsel for breakfast.”
“And?” Ethan prodded when Josh stopped.
“And one day Aaron Burke brought in his hot new client, the wizard of the financial world.”
“Charles Mallory.” He couldn’t disguise the contempt in his voice.
“He had Lisa squarely in his sights. She looked to be unattainable, and Mallory always wanted what he didn’t think he could get.”
Caine raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but what did Lisa see in him?”
“Come on, Ethan. She was twenty-eight years old.” He flung out his hands in a gesture of frustration. “For all her unbelievable knowledge of the law, she’d spent most of her life buried in it and was far less sophisticated than people thought. Charles offered her the moon and happily ever after, and she bought it.”
“It must have come as quite a shock to her when the Feds swooped in and she found out where his money came from.”
“No kidding. Shock is a mild term. The mess Charles left threatened to strangle her, especially when she was arrested for his murder.”
“Ugly picture. She’s got guts to come through all of this.” Ethan finished his beer. “Want a Coke?”
Josh chuckled. “I didn’t think anything nonalcoholic was allowed here.”
“I keep it for my clean-cut friends like you. Nick? One for you?”
“Sure. I’ll take one.”
“Be right back.”
In the kitchen, Ethan leaned against the refrigerator door, the Coke in one hand and another beer in the other. He could feel himself being sucked into the whole Lisa situation, and it fried his ass to realize it. Shit, shit, shit.
He walked back out to the porch, still cursing silently. “Okay.” He handed out the Cokes. “What happened after the trial that never was?”
Josh popped the top on his can and took a swallow before answering. “The financial mess was like quicksand. Lisa was being hounded by everyone except Santa Claus.” He rotated the can in his hands. “Shortly before the accident, Charles mortgaged the estate to the hilt and got a fat bundle of cash out of it.”
Ethan frowned. “What the hell did he do that for? He couldn’t have needed the bucks. Not with the money flowing from his drug empire.”
Josh shrugged. “Charles was a middle man for the cartels. The only things the Feds and I could figure out is he spent money he owed and needed some quick cash to get them off his back. He sure didn’t stint when it came to his lifestyle.”
“Too bad he didn’t do himself in before that. What happened to the property?”
“The IRS appropriated it to satisfy the tax debt.”
“And all the other creditors? I can’t believe they just said so sad, too bad, have a nice life.”
Josh twisted his lips into an evil grin. “The only good thing Charles did was make sure everything was in his name alone. Even the bank accounts. Lisa couldn’t be touched because she wasn’t personally liable for most of the stuff. She packed her suitcases and Jamie’s and walked away clean.”
“If she was left with nothing, how did she take care of herself and the kid?” Ethan shook his head. “She managed to buy a place to live in, or did you front that for her?”
“I’m a lot less trusting than Lisa.” Josh took a swallow of the cold soda. “Before she married Mallory, I talked her into putting all her investments and cash into a joint account with me. An account Charles couldn’t touch. Just as protection.” He shook his head. “She gave me a hard time about it but finally did it. That and the sale of her jewelry gave her enough to support herself and Jamie and buy a small house for the two of them.”
Caine rocked for a long time, letting his mind absorb the information. “How did the snatch happen?”
Josh unfolded himself from the rocker and leaned against the porch railing, staring ahead at the unkempt landscape. “Jamie and Lisa were having lunch at Monkeyshines, near the Lowry Park Zoo. It’s one of Jamie’s favorite places. He went to the men’s room and never came back.”
Not a new story. “She didn’t go with him?”
“He was almost eight years old, for Christ sake. Old enough to pee by himself.”
“Apparently not.” He watched Josh’s nervous pacing. “How did they get him away without him yelling for her, anyway?”
Josh twirled his drink slowly in his hand. “The restrooms are in a short hallway you can’t see from the tables. There’s an exit door at the end of the hall. We figured someone was waiting, got him alone, gave him something to knock him out, and whipped him out the door.”
“I checked the place out,” Nick said. “It’s very easy for a snatch and grab.”
“Rough.” Ethan studied his beer. “And Aaron Burke gave her no trouble about the money?”
“Nope. Just handed it over.”
Ethan drained the last of his beer. “So what happened when she made the drop?”
Josh gave him chapter and verse—Lisa leaving the duffel with the cash at the drop site late at night, going on her own because she believed they would kill Jamie if she didn’t. And how, as she walked away, she was shot with a long-range rifle. The bullet hit a rib and splintered.
Josh blew out a slow breath. “It was touch and go for a while. I don’t know how she survived.”
“Why kill her if she left the money?” Ethan frowned. “Something’s not right there.”
Nick agreed. “Unless killing her was part of the original plan.” He shook his head. “Otherwise, it just doesn’t make much sense.”
Josh nodded. “I know. I keep coming back to the same thing. But that doesn’t make sense, either.” He stopped speaking, his face tight with emotion, and ran his fingers through his hair in a gesture of frustration. “How does an eight-year-old boy get taken and just disappear off the face of the earth?”
“We tried all the child-selling schemes,” Nick added. “The cults, live auctions, you name it. Not a smell.”
Ethan said nothing and silence draped itself around them. He could visualize the payoff, the mother fearing for her son, desperate to believe he’d be returned. Walking away, even though consumed by fear and anguish. The rifle shot.
A long time ago, when he could still feel things and when his emotions weren’t locked in a subterranean vault, a woman like Lisa Mallory would have captured his heart and soul, but he no longer had either. Yet, in spite of all that, a knife-like stab of pain pierced him. He wondered if he was diving into the deep end of a pool here, one that he’d never be able to swim out of.
Josh began to pace again, sliding glances at Ethan from the corner of his eye.
“Damn it, sit down, will you?” Ethan snapped. Jesus. Would they just let him absorb all of this? “I can’t think with you dancing around in front of me.”
Josh dropped into the empty rocker, nervously rotating the Coke can with his fingers.
Ethan stared straight ahead, letting his mind sort through what he’d learned about Lisa Mallory on the web and piece it together with what Josh told him. And again, seeing the utter pain and fear on her face.
If nothing had turned up in three months, there was a wrinkle here no one had found yet. That being so, his experience told him the Taylor family had bigger trouble than they thought.
Shit, hell, and damnation.
Could he really go down that road again? What if things got fucked up again? What if—
He slammed the door on those thoughts, leaned back in the rocker, and stretched his legs out to rest his feet on the porch railing. “We don’t even have a starting point here. And I’m way out of touch these days.”
Ethan looked over at Nick, sitting quietly, watching him process everything the way he used to. Then at Josh, whose face was carefully expressionless, although his eyes were filled with an emotion Ethan wished he could ignore.
“Ethan, I—” his friend began.
“If it was anyone but you,” Ethan said, cutting him off, “I wouldn’t even be listening to this story. You know that. Let me think this through, and then I’ll want to talk to your sister again.”
Josh just studied him for a long moment. Ethan met his stare unblinking, hoping he’d managed to mask the pain that was never far away, that thoughts of a new mission kicked to the surface. Then he stood up.
“All right. When can I expect to hear from you?”
“Soon. Now get out of here, both of you. I have stuff to do.”
Ethan watched them climb into Nick’s car and disappear down the long driveway. Then he turned and went back into the house, stripping off his clothes as he went. The beer and whiskey were great and dulled a lot of open sores, but right now, he needed his head as clear as possible. If he found a smell of this kid and thought he could go after him, alcohol was the last thing he’d need.
He didn’t want to think about what might be ahead of him. Didn’t want to picture what he’d face if he let his friendship with Josh push him into this. No matter how he’d distanced himself from things in the past, how hard he worked to bury horrific images in his mind, they were always there, hovering like birds of death. Cries of pain, screams of agony, scenes of unbelievable cruelty.
And the memories of treachery, especially that last op. They were all still nightmares that lived in his head. He’d sworn never to go back to that life. He struggled daily for peace, trying not to release his tenuous hold on it. But giving it up might offer the only path to finding Jamie Mallory.
And then, of course, there was Lisa. A complicated woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and who could blame her? The few contacts he’d had with her, despite her habit of looking down her nose at him, always left an impression of great intelligence and banked fires. Again, he was struck by the thought that before he’d let life destroy him, Lisa Mallory was a woman he could easily have been attracted to. More than attracted.
He made a noise of disgust. Forget that. Bad news. Her life was ruined as much as his was. Why the hell had she ever married that shithead Mallory anyway?
He stood under the hot shower until the water ran cold, then let the icy drops beat on him. At last, he stepped out and toweled himself off. Wearing the towel wrapped around his hips, he padded to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. While it was brewing, he dug through his desk for a small ragged notebook. He foresaw a long night ahead of him.
But first, he sat down at the kitchen table, rested his head on his forearms, and did something he hadn’t allowed himself to do since the big shitstorm had all but destroyed him.
He cried.
****
Lisa paced as she waited for Josh, something she’d become quite good at. The time had crawled since he dropped her off, moving slower than honey dripping off a basting brush. She checked every clock in the house and even called the number for the correct time to make sure they were all set right.
Every day was gray since Jamie had been taken. Even when the sun was out, like today, she felt its warmth everywhere except on her. She practically hugged the aura of depression to herself, as if happiness and sunshine were forbidden until she got Jamie back.
Asshole! Asshole! Asshole!
In eight years, her gutter vocabulary in reference to Charles had increased exponentially. She found herself using words she hadn’t even known existed before. The only regret she had about his death was she hadn’t had the pleasure of killing him herself. When the awful truth about Charles was laid bare—drug use, orgies, gambling—only Jamie’s need for her kept her centered. Now it was her need to find him that drove her.
Her hand throbbed, and she pressed it against her side. Josh had bandaged it before he left, telling her she didn’t need stitches, but reminding her to keep antibiotic ointment on it.
She still had the picture in her mind, frozen like a snapshot, of Jamie the last time she saw him. His blue eyes were bright with the anticipation of their visit to the zoo, his cheeks flushed with excitement. He’d barely been able to eat his hot dog or drink the Coke Float he loved.
“I have to go to the bathroom, Mommy,” he’d told her, sliding from the booth.
He’d hurried off in his jeans and Tampa Bay Buccaneers T-shirt, waving as he rushed off to the hallway where the restrooms were. She didn’t dare tell Josh how many times she’d gone back to Monkeyshines, sitting at the table right by the hallway, staring at the men’s room door as if willing her son to reappear. Her brother already thought she was losing her mind, and he probably wasn’t far from wrong.
Seeking something to distract her and ignoring the pain in her hand, she dusted every photo of Jamie displayed in the living room, rearranging them, then returning them to their original places. But that was no diversion. All it did was enhance the misery that gripped her since the day her son disappeared.
Charles, what have you brought down on us now? If you weren’t already dead, I’d kill you myself.
A dozen times, she hurried to the window, sure she heard a car in the driveway.
The image of Ethan Caine still danced in her brain—arrogant, hard, a ruined survivor. Yet, as much as she hated to admit it, there was an electricity about him that penetrated her shell. God, she was really losing her mind if she was fantasizing about that man. Talk about desperation.
By the time Josh pulled into the driveway, she was ready to jump out of her skin. She was on him the minute he walked into the house, grabbing his arm with a grip like a steel claw, almost shaking him.
“What did he say? Tell me right now.”
“Hey, hey, hey. Come on, Lisa, take a breath.” He took her hand and led her to the couch, making her sit down. Then he dropped into the chair opposite her.
“He said no, didn’t he? I knew it.” She twisted her hands together to still their shaking. “God, he is the most unpleasant man I’ve met in a long time. I can’t imagine how you’re friends with him.”
Josh leaned forward, taking her hands in his. “Stop. Focus. Listen to me. He didn’t say no.”
“He didn’t?” She was almost afraid to hope.
“No. He did what Ethan always does. He asked a lot of questions and processed everything through his mind. Then he said he’d call later. But Lisa? This is just his way. I know he’ll do it.”
“Really?” She grabbed her hands away from him. “And exactly how do you know that?” She rubbed her forehead. “God, we’re crazy to depend on a man who’s let himself go to rot the way Ethan Caine has.”
“Lisa—”
“This is Jamie we’re talking about. How do you even know what that crazy man will do?” She sat forward, hands clasped tightly together, her heart clattering against her ribs, and drew in a shuddering breath. “So what exactly did he say?”
“I told you. He said he’d call me, but I think—” Josh began.
“He’ll call you?” Her voice rose in pitch. “He’ll call you? Josh, we’re running out of time. Doesn’t he know how desperate I am?”
Josh gave a short laugh. “I’m sure he knows you wouldn’t ask for his help otherwise.”
“So how long are we supposed to wait for him?” Her head began to throb, a signal that the headache
she’d been fighting all day was about to kick in. She forced herself to take deep, slow breaths to ease the tension that constantly gripped her.
Relax, Lisa. Breathe.
“I know you’re close to the edge, honey, and I promise you, Ethan knows it, too. He won’t take forever to get back to us. But he won’t agree to do it unless he thinks he has a chance of success. Right now I’m willing to bet he’s doing some quiet digging around to see if his contacts are still active.”
Lisa hugged herself again, sure she’d be cold for the rest of her life. “How do you know everything about his black ops career is even true? You keep telling me that’s stuff you can’t talk about, so maybe it’s not even real. Maybe the whole thing is a big fat lie to make himself out to be some mysterious character. Whip up his ego.”
Josh held up a hand. “His career with Guardian is no lie. Let me tell you a little story. One night, a few months after he left Guardian, he was home for a couple of weeks, called me out of the blue, and we got together for dinner. We were sitting there having a drink and he got a call on his cell phone. He said very little other than yes, okay, and I got it. After he hung up, he asked me to drive him to a parking lot at an abandoned factory.”
In spite of herself, Lisa was curious. “So did you?”
“Yup. As soon as we got there, the biggest, blackest helicopter I’ve ever seen touched down, the door slid open, some guy all in black shook Ethan’s hand, and then they were gone. It sure didn’t come from Rent-A-Copter.”
“But—”
He held up his hand to stop her again. “He knows plenty of people you wouldn’t invite to your house, but whatever he did before it all came crashing down, honed him into the perfect person for this. I know he drinks like a fish, but he holds his liquor. He does not use drugs of any kind except an occasional aspirin, despite the rumors. And, as he is fond of saying, the statute of limitations has run out on anything he may have ever done.” He gave her a faint smile. “At least in this country.”
Lisa couldn’t quite see Ethan Caine as the dark hero Josh painted, but she was at the point where she’d join forces with the devil himself if it would get Jamie back.