by Zoe Dawson
Had the fight forced a rift between them? Had Lily been in trouble and felt as if she couldn’t come to Emma for help? Had she alienated her sister because of her intense desire to protect her, and this was the result—her sister in a coma in the hospital and her sweet Matty abducted?
Chapter Four
But it was Derrick who responded. “We’re not saying she was involved with a cartel, but the evidence that it was this man who abducted your nephew is compelling. We aren’t going to jump to conclusions until we have the full story.”
“Amber, work up a profile on Ortega and his son. Austin, track that damn car down and see where it went. Derrick, check out the pharmacy. Take Ms. St. John with you.”
He turned to protest, but his boss’s eyes had their own hard, flinty look and he closed his mouth, the objections projecting out of his eyes like daggers.
He jammed the button for the elevator and when the doors opened, they stepped inside. She couldn’t deal with his anger at having her tag along right now. She was caught up in the news that she had dropped the ball, and not a rubber one that would just bounce back, but a glass one that was smashed to smithereens, like her heart and her confidence. How could she have been unaware that her sister was in this kind of danger? An assassin? How had she missed this?
Derrick beat her to his passenger door, and she raised a brow when he opened it for her. She got inside and he closed the door, then settled in the driver’s seat. After glancing at his phone’s GPS, he started the car.
Once they were on the highway, he said, “Beating yourself up isn’t going to help.”
“I failed her so totally. As a former cop and a person who assessed threats for a living, I should have been aware that something was off.”
“None of us are perfect, Emma. Hindsight is always clear and concise. All we can do now is get the people who did this and return her son to you both safe and sound.”
She nodded. “I guess you don’t hold a grudge,” she said, warmed by his words when she didn’t want to be. She had only ever wanted to take care of herself, her sister and her own emotions. She had no illusions about how eager people were to stick around and care or make a difference. Part of her jaded outlook on life came from working the streets as a cop, but a large portion of it came from her grandmother who had been mostly absent from their lives, couldn’t be bothered to take an interest in their daily activities, preferring to leave their rearing to a nanny. When she did focus on them, it was to criticize or make sure each of them knew how cruel the world could be and how important it was for them to be as strong, as resolute, as their formidable grandmother.
The world was a cruel and harsh place. Lily hadn’t wanted to believe that, no matter how much Emma tried to force-feed her. She had ended up in the hospital. Love came with a price.
“No. This job is tough enough without judging people. What happened to your sister is devastating, and I get it that you’re defensive and need to protect yourself right now. I know all about regrets and guilt and how it can tie you up into terrible knots.”
“Don’t be kind,” she whispered. She wanted to touch his arm but held back. Clasping her hands into fists, she eased in an unsteady breath. “Please, not now.” It would have been better if he’d stayed in the enigmatic, hard-ass category. That would have been easier to handle, not this compassionate man. There was a tremendous pull in the tiny space between them, the kind of pull that made it almost impossible to ignore. Feeling unexpectedly close to tears—again, and this had to be a record for her—she kept her eyes straight ahead, her chest unbearably tight. She hadn’t felt so alone or bereft like this since her parents died.
Nearly overcome by that feeling, she took a breath and said, “So where are we going?”
Finally, she looked at him. He gripped the wheel and took a breath. His voice low and gruff, he said, “This pharmacy is in one of the busiest sections of La Mesa.”
“He probably did that on purpose, so that he would be lost in a crowd,” she responded, and he turned admiring eyes on her.
“That’s right. Good observation.”
She tried to will away the ache, tried to collect a modicum of common sense. Proximity, her rational inner voice whispered, He cares more than he should, countered that other little voice. Just two lonely people, she mentally argued. You’re kidding yourself, responded her conscience.
It didn’t matter. Derrick in any proximity was potent enough. Up close and in person, he was downright irresistible. She wanted to get to know him better and see if that intensity and care transferred over into charm and humor. Even if Derrick wasn’t an enemy to be wary of, he wasn’t exactly an ally, either. If he’d had his way, she wouldn’t be sitting here.
That thought gave her a spurt of anger she could use to ward off his intoxicating presence.
The rest of the trip was in silence while Emma nursed that spurt of anger into a barrier she could use against Derrick’s sheer maleness. Once they’d parked and headed into the pharmacy, she followed him in. Derrick said, “Let me take the lead.”
She nodded, ready to lend any type of support or help she could.
One of the cashiers pointed them to the back where the clerk, Missy, had been on duty the day before. They found her behind the pharmacy counter, and she smiled as they approached. Well, she smiled at Derrick, which irked Emma, but she wasn’t going to acknowledge it. No damn way.
“Hello there, handsome,” Missy said, “Can I help you with something?” She snapped her gum and smiled again.
He seemed unconcerned or not at all inclined to follow up her come-on with his own play-along. He flashed his badge, his face unsmiling. “We’re here about a missing infant.”
She gasped. “Someone was taken from the store?”
“No, the kidnapper was here yesterday.” He pulled out the artist’s rendering and the girl took it with wide eyes, studying it.
“Yes…I saw him in here. I remember he had scary eyes for such a young guy and this even scarier tattoo on his upper arm. The little boy I thought was his son was bundled up. He was in a huge hurry and not very talkative. Had an accent and I thought he was probably from Mexico, since we’re so close to the border.”
That statement immediately set panic off in Emma’s chest. “Was the baby all right?”
“No, he was fussing up a storm. I could hear him all the way to the counter. He asked me for something to quiet him and I suggested some baby analgesic. He looked on edge and like the crying was getting to him.”
“How did he pay?” Emma asked, hoping for some type of paper trail to follow.
“Cash. A hundred-dollar bill.”
She didn’t give Derrick a chance to speak, the urgency in her fueling her inquiries. “How long did he stay, and did he give you any clue as to where he might be going?”
“Only the time it took to get his items and pay. Maybe fifteen minutes.” She grimaced and her expression told Emma she wished she had more information. “He dropped this.” She reached below the counter and pulled out a bootie. It was blue and Emma took it, her gut twisting with recognition and worry. “I tried to chase him down, but he didn’t hear me. He got into a black sedan and headed south, toward the freeway.”
Emma just stared at the bootie fitting in her palm, so soft, so small. She’d bought them after Matty had been born. They’d been a little too big, but he’d grown into them.
Even though Missy was looking at her, Derrick responded, “Thank you for your time.”
She nodded and when Emma didn’t move, Derrick nudged her. Pulling a plastic bag out of his pocket, he opened it so she could drop the booty inside.
Once they got back to the car, Derrick opened her door again and she slid inside, feeling emotionally gutted. This was real. This was happening. Matty was gone, in the hands of the man who had injured his mother. They had no clue where they were, where they were going and why he had hurt Lily and taken her nephew.
“We’ll head back to NCIS and regroup.” He started the car, but when she
didn’t respond, he reached over and clasped her arm. “We’ll find him. I promise you, Emma.”
“You can’t be sure of that,” she whispered. The loss hitting her hard.
“I can guarantee you that I…we won’t stop looking for him until we find him. That’s a promise.”
She nodded and said, her voice shaky, “He’s fussy because he has an ear infection. My sister was giving him amoxicillin. We have to find him, Derrick.”
He reached over and squeezed her arm in acknowledgment.
As they stepped off the elevator back at NCIS headquarters, Emma froze when she heard that cold, merciless voice demand, “Where is my granddaughter? I have a right to know.”
Once she got her feet to move, everything shutting down inside her so she could deal with this new threat, Emma came face-to-face with her grandmother.
“There you are…you ungrateful wretch. I had to be informed of Lily’s injury! You couldn’t have the common decency to call me and let me know?”
Anger built inside Emma as she watched her grandmother do what she did best—grandstand with concern. But it was an act. Her grandmother was put out, like Lily’s hospitalization had interrupted her life. Poor Bess; the granddaughter she never loved was hurt and the great-grandson she’d hardly acknowledged was gone. Poor Bess, so cold and calculating, like a character out of Charles Dickens. There had never been the possibility of more in Emma and Lily’s world. Bess saw to it that even the word some was meaningless.
“Really, Bess? I would have thought you’d find the interruption inconvenient.”
Her grandmother’s eyes narrowed. “How can you say such a thing to me?”
She shouldn’t have. She knew she shouldn’t have. Good girls didn’t sass back. Ladies kept their opinions to themselves. But all the dictates from her upbringing couldn’t hold back the rage she had stored inside her all these years. In her mind she could see Lily lying in that hospital bed, her face so pale, and she could hardly allow herself to imagine the way her sister had suffered. And here was Bess, playing the martyr. Never an ounce of compassion for anyone. Never mind who else might be in pain.
“Let’s take this to the conference room,” Derrick’s boss, Kai, said, her voice ringing with authority. When Bess didn’t move, Kai grabbed her arm and started to drag her down the hall. Derrick was right at Emma’s elbow and she hadn’t realized that he had been so close, and even though she barely knew him, his presence bolstered her.
With a deep breath, she followed them down the hall to the conference room.
Her grandmother had that stubborn set to her jaw, her eyes accusing and devoid of any compassion. “I have never been so insulted, Emma.”
“Nothing ever changes, Bess,” Emma said, uncaring that both Kai and Derrick were standing there. Neither one of them made any move to leave. “It was just the same when Mom and Dad were killed,” she said, her voice trembling with the power of her emotions. “We were so little, so alone in the world. You could have made a difference, but you didn’t. Instead you just have to turn it around to focus on you, so you got people’s sympathy, so they all went around saying, ‘Poor Bess. She’s such a good person for taking in her grandchildren.’”
“I was good to take you in!” Bess snarled, pushing to her feet. “I had lost my son. He meant everything to me!”
That was exactly what Emma had thought. Her grandmother had been so devastated by her son’s death, the son she’d groomed in her image and doted on, that she’d taken out her grief on his children from the moment they stepped foot in her home. She’d never said it out loud, but the terrible knowledge was something she had never shared with Lily because Emma worried that it would have broken her heart. She was free to say it now, and the weight of holding that knowledge was like a concrete block. It wouldn’t bring Matty back. It wouldn’t give them back their childhood. It could only prolong the pain and mire them more deeply in the muck of the past.
“I did what was best for all of us,” Bess said imperiously. “Not that you or your sister ever showed a moment’s appreciation. Both of you were spoiled. And Lily. She always had her head in the clouds. Not at all like your father.”
“Exactly, and his children were the booby prize. We weren’t him, and you resented us for living.”
“Emma! All the sacrifices I made for you and your sister, and all I get in return is this bitterness and criticism.”
“You reap what you sow,” Emma said.
Her grandmother just stared, then she looked away. “Nevertheless. We can put our differences aside. I can contact people I know at the State Department.”
Her grandmother rose when Austin burst into the conference room. “We got a hit on the BOLO.”
She grasped Derrick’s arm. “I want to go.”
He looked to Kai and then sighed. “All right.”
Her grandmother pulled out her cell phone as Emma left with Derrick, the door closing on her strained and pale face. She was shocked her grandmother was here and willing to help, but legally, it seemed a dead-end route to her for many reasons. Their best bet in getting Matty back was by going to where they had taken him and forcefully retrieving him. Her focus now had to be on finding Matty and nothing else.
Derek watched Emma’s confrontation with her grandmother and forced back his own memories of his childhood. Every brain cell needed to be focused on finding that baby. For his sake and Emma’s.
Austin talked as they rushed down the hall. “It’s right before the border. There’s a California Highway Patrolman waiting for you.”
As soon as they hit the pavement, he set the siren on his car and drove like hell to get to where the CHP officer had parked his motorcycle. Derrick came to a stop on the shoulder and he and Emma exited the car. Cars whizzed past and Derrick could see in the distance the line of cars slowing for the border crossing, the booths and the signs.
“It’s off the road, back there buried behind some brush,” the officer said as he pointed toward a clump of trees. “The sun was angled perfectly for me to see the reflection off the hood. I only got close enough to see the license plate.”
“Thank you,” Derrick said. He released his weapon and said, “Back me up.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Give me my weapon,” she said, and Derrick pulled the gun out of his pocket and handed it to her. Emma was right behind him, the patrolman bringing up the rear as they approached the vehicle. Derrick flanked toward the rear, raising his weapon as the patrolman moved toward the front.
“This is NCIS! Step out of the vehicle with your hands up,” he ordered, but there was no response. They moved in slowly, Derrick watching for any signs of threat or movement. As he rounded the back of the car, he saw that the driver’s side was empty, but he didn’t drop his guard. He approached the window and quickly looked inside, but the passenger seat and the floorboards were vacant.
He looked in the backseat and his gut tightened when Emma made a soft sound. An abandoned baby seat.
Her nephew was gone. She reached out and captured a soft blue blanket with whimsical animals on it.
She brought the blanket to her face and stood there for a moment, lost in her pain. Then looked toward the border crossing.
Derrick reached into the driver’s side and pulled the trunk lever. It released with a popping sound. He walked to the back and raised the lid. The cop gasped, his gaze going to Emma. “Who is that?” he asked.
“George Douglas, I presume.” Derrick searched the man and came up with his wallet. Sure enough, his ID confirmed it. “The abductor must have jumped him outside the rental office.”
Derrick’s cell rang. “Derrick, I have him on the walkway,” Austin said.
“How long ago?” he asked, the sleepless night catching up to him in the weariness in his voice, knowing they were too late even as he met Emma’s stricken eyes.
“Twelve hours ago,” Austin said grimly. “He’s crossed into Mexico and has more than a day’s start.”
“We’re going
to need the ME again. We’ve got another dead body. It’s George Douglas, the guy who rented the car from Crown.”
Austin sighed. “This guy went through a lot to snatch this kid. It’s got to be personal.”
“Yeah, but why?”
“That is the question. I’ll keep you posted if I find anything else.”
Emma saw the answer in Derrick’s eyes after he disconnected the call, her throat closing up. “When?” she asked in a strangled tone.
“Emma—”
“When, dammit!”
“Twelve hours ago,” he said, his voice gruff.
She clutched the blanket to her. One part of her brain knew panic wasn’t going to help as she pressed the cloth to her mouth, trying to force some rationality past it. Her whole body trembling, she clenched her hands.
Matty’s sweet baby scent left on the blanket filled her nose. Emma released a pent-up breath, turned and looked at the border crossing, her gaze desperate. “He’s not going to get away with this.” Matty was so little. Please, Matty. Please be okay. “We should get over there and question as many people as we can,” Emma said.
“NCIS will be by to impound this car and tow it to the lab. Please watch over it and wait for the ME and the technicians,” Derrick instructed.
“Will do,” the officer said. “Good luck with the search.”
She headed for the car, but a strong hand gripped her arm. “We’ll find him.” He was relentless, his grip strong. Maintaining a hold on her, he caught her by the chin and forced her gaze away from the border crossing. “Look at me, Emma,” he commanded firmly. She stared numbly at him, her chest heaving and hurting, her breathing still raw. “We’re not at a dead end yet.” He pulled her against him and she resisted for a moment, then relented. Her arms sliding around him, she gave in to the need to feel something solid and warm in her world right now.
“It’s all right,” he said. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered. Pressing her head to his shoulder, he gathered her up in a tight embrace, his hand tangled in her hair. Shifting so she was flat against him, she closed her eyes, the rush of loneliness and panic subsiding into a dull ache. Derrick tightened his hold on her, her heart hammering, her breathing slowing to match his.