“Wasn’t there a passcode on the phone?”
“Yeah, but I’d watched him punch it in when we were talking.” He shrugged. “Most people aren’t too careful about that. And then when he left the phone sitting on the counter, just begging to be swiped . . . well . . .”
“What makes you think this time will be different? If he wasn’t willing to help you before, why now?”
“I plan to be a little more convincing.” Movement caught his eye. “The garage door’s opening.”
Within seconds, a Honda minivan backed out. The garage door shut and the van disappeared around the curve.
“Did you see the truck in the garage?” he asked.
“I did.”
“That belongs to Howard.”
She reached into the back and grabbed the bag Brady had sent with them.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m the closest thing you’ve got to backup. You’re not going alone.”
She pulled a weapon from the bag and smiled. “Good. Brady thought ahead. It’s registered to me and I know how to use it. And when not to use it. Don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry?”
She checked it like an expert and shoved it into the waistband at the small of her back, then pulled the hem of her T-shirt over it.
He blinked. “You look way too natural doing that for someone who’s not a cop or a criminal.”
“I grew up playing cops and robbers. In my family, I had no choice. We graduated from pop guns to paintball. I had to be good at whatever we were playing, or I would always be the one getting shot. That didn’t sit well with me and my competitive spirit. Then we moved on to the shooting range. I can shoot with the best of them, including Mr. Hotshot Sniper Derek St. John. It irks him to no end.”
“I can imagine.” Isaac’s heart wanted to puddle at his feet. He was falling for this incredible woman he was just getting to know, and he had no business doing so when he had no guarantee he’d make it through the day alive.
But once this was over . . .
“Exactly how many guns do you own?”
“Seven.”
“Seven. And you’re a surgeon.”
“I am.”
“Okay, then. Well. That makes total sense.” He pointed toward her back. “Only pull that as a last resort, okay?”
She nodded.
“Promise me, Ruthie, please. And hang back.”
“How far back?”
“As far as you will. I can’t have you getting hurt. Please.”
“That’s the second time you’ve said please in the last five seconds.”
Man, she was stubborn. “I mean it.”
“Fine. I’ll leave the gun where it is unless one of our lives is in immediate danger. I promise. How’s that?”
“It’ll have to do.” He drew in a deep breath. “All right, let’s go knock on the door and see who answers.”
While Ruthie was confident in her ability to shoot bull’s-eyes on paper targets, taking aim at a human being was another thing altogether. However, she simply couldn’t let Isaac face down a potentially dangerous man all by himself. Not that he hadn’t done it before, but she hadn’t been there during those times. This time, she was.
Isaac walked up the front steps and rang the bell.
And waited.
She stayed at the bottom and watched the windows. Ruthie had been the “bad guy” in enough training exercises with her brothers and sisters that she knew what they looked for when confronting a suspect.
When no one answered after the third knock and repeated punching of the doorbell, Isaac growled.
“Don’t think he’s here.”
“Maybe. Or he’s hiding.”
“What now?”
“I find a way in.”
“Um . . . isn’t that kind of like breaking and entering?”
“Kind of like it, yeah.”
“So, maybe you shouldn’t?”
“Probably not.”
But he was going to do it anyway.
“He might be hurt,” he said.
She raised a brow at him. “He might be.”
“Those guys could have caught up with him and his life could be in danger.”
“You’re stretching for exigent circumstances, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
“Still, it could be possible. I mean, we don’t know who was in that van. We just assumed it was his sister and her kids.”
He jerked and real worry filtered into his gaze. “You’re right.”
“I am?”
“Yes, actually.” He tried the knob. Locked. “Sally? It’s Isaac Martinez. You in there?” When he got no response, he touched the etched-glass window pane next to the door, then made a fist.
“Go through the garage window if you’re thinking about breaking that,” she said. “The door leading into the house is probably unlocked.”
He stared at her for a moment. “You really missed your calling.”
They made their way around to the side of the house where the garage window was low enough for him to climb into. He reared back to smash it, then stopped and gave it a shove upward. He shook his head when it slid on the tracks high enough for him to fit through. He looked at Ruthie. “I suppose you’re going to insist on coming.”
“You really have to ask?”
He helped her through the window.
Once inside the home, Isaac let his gaze wander around the kitchen. “Nothing looks out of place in here.”
The kitchen opened up into the den, which had toys strewn from one end to the other. A bag of diapers spilled over in the corner next to the television. As though someone had grabbed a handful in a hurry?
With his weapon gripped in his right hand and his left arm hugged up against him in the sling, Isaac made his way down the hall. Ruthie stayed behind him, watching to make sure no one popped out and shot him in the back.
Her palm itched to pull the weapon resting snug against her skin, but she’d promised. And so far, she had no reason to need it. Thank goodness.
They finally stepped into the master bedroom, and Isaac drew up short.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Howard’s already had visitors.”
Ruthie stepped around him to find a man on the floor next to the bed. The bullet hole in his forehead suggested his visitors hadn’t liked him very much. A sheet of paper lay next to him, but she couldn’t read the writing from the doorway. Even though she could tell by looking at him that he was dead, she hurried over, knelt, and pressed her fingers against his throat. Like she’d thought. No pulse.
She looked up at Isaac. “Stab wound in his right hand, but I don’t see any more. That didn’t kill him. Most likely it was the bullet in his head. Now what?”
“I have a bad feeling you were right.”
“About what?”
“About who was in that van.”
“Why would whoever did this take a woman and her children?”
“For leverage.”
“With who?”
He sighed and pressed his thumb and forefinger against his eyes. “Me.” He held up the paper that had been on the floor beside the body.
Turn over the evidence or they die.
eight
“YOU?” RUTHIE LOOKED BACK AT THE DEAD MAN and groaned. “He told them you had it?”
“I don’t know. Most likely thought it would buy him some time, not a bullet.”
“But how did they find him before us? They just finished shooting at us at the cabin. How in the world did they get from there to here and . . . wait a minute.” She frowned and touched the dead man’s cheek. “He’s cold to the touch. Lividity has already set in.” She lifted the edge of his shirt. “Blood is pooling in large patches beneath him,” she muttered.
“Time of death?”
“Wish I could take his liver temp, but I’d say he’s been dead at least twelve to fourteen hours. I could be off, but not by much.”
; “So he was dead before we even left the hospital?”
“Maybe. Or shortly thereafter. How’d they know to come here?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “Me, maybe?” he whispered. “I called Sally from the hospital landline. I had to chance it when I realized how serious these guys were. My phone was with the rest of my stuff, so I had no way of . . .” He shook his head. “I’m an idiot. Of course they’d check outgoing phone calls from my room. I should have used a different phone.”
“So, you expected someone to try and kill you in your room?”
“What? Of course not.”
“Then I would think it was perfectly legit to think you’d be safe in making the call.” She frowned. “What did you tell her?”
“That some bad people were after her brother and she needed to get as far away from him as possible.”
“So they sent someone to her place and someone else followed us to our cabin.”
“No, I’m guessing once they realized who you were, they had someone watching your brothers and sisters—maybe even your mom. When Brady—and Derek—took off, they probably followed one of them.” He shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t matter now how they found all of us. We just have to deal with the fallout and save Sally and her kids.”
“We need to get a BOLO put out on that minivan,” she said. “And an Amber Alert on the kids.”
“No. They’ll get rid of them if we do that.”
“Then what now?”
“They’ll contact me. Somehow.” His eyes landed on the telephone hanging on the wall. “Because if we’re right and they think I have the evidence, they’ll have to give me instructions on how to deliver it.”
“But you don’t have it.”
“Nope. Which means I have to find it. And I have a feeling time is short.”
The home phone rang as if to mock him.
“Don’t answer it,” she said.
“It’s them.”
“And if you answer it, time is going to get even shorter.”
“But if I don’t answer it, they might hurt one of the hostages.”
She huffed. “They can’t even know we’re here. It’s probably not even them.”
He met her gaze. “It’s them. They knew we’d wind up here.” He glanced at the window nearest them. “And they’re probably watching.”
Isaac reached for the phone.
Ruthie waited, her gaze darting from the window to the door.
“Hello.” A pause. “Yeah. Now? I don’t have it.” Another pause. “Well, he lied. . . . Right. Got it. . . . Yeah, yeah, no cops. . . . I want proof of life. What?” His gaze landed on the closet. “Hey! Don’t hang . . . ugh.” He dropped the phone and darted to the closet. Opened it and dropped to his knees. “Sally!”
Ruthie nudged him aside and pressed her fingers against the woman’s neck. “She’s alive.”
“I can’t carry her.” His frustration echoed in the small space.
“Move out of the way, please.” He did, and Ruthie slid her arms under the woman’s armpits and pulled, easily removing her from the closet. “She doesn’t weigh enough. Could use another ten pounds.”
“Probably lost some due to the stress of having a husband run out on her.”
“Stand-up guy, huh?”
“Yep.”
Ruthie began her examination and found the reason for the woman’s unconscious state. “They knocked her in the head.”
“Can you get her to wake up? We’ve got twelve hours to figure out where Howard hid the proof and turn it over to them . . . or they kill her three children.”
Ruthie closed her eyes. “They wouldn’t, would they? I mean, it’s just a bluff, right?” She grabbed the picture from the end table. “Look at this. The date says it was taken last month. The oldest can’t be more than ten or eleven. The youngest is still in diapers. Who can kill babies?”
“People do it every day.” He scowled. “We’re going to have to tear this place apart.”
“Brady’s going to be calling soon and asking where we are.”
“We’ll have to ignore him. The guy on the phone said they’re watching and if anyone else shows up, the kids will start losing fingers and toes.”
“I’m going to throw up.”
“You’ll have to get in line.”
“Did you recognize his voice?”
“No, he used some kind of voice distortion machine or app.” Isaac looked around. “Where would you hide evidence that could save your life if it was hidden well or get you killed if someone found it?”
“I wouldn’t hide it here.” She grabbed the lamp and flipped it on, then bent back over the woman to examine her pupils. “She’s got a concussion.”
He sighed. “How long before she wakes up?”
“No clue.”
“Does she need a hospital?”
“I wouldn’t mind a scan of her skull, but she’s breathing fine. Pupils are equal, but larger than normal. I think we just need to watch her real close.”
“We’ll get that opportunity, because she’s coming with us.”
The woman groaned.
“That’s a good sign, right?” Isaac asked.
“Yes, it is. Sally? Can you hear me?”
She didn’t answer, but blinked and groaned again.
Isaac paced. “Where would Howard hide it? We don’t even know if he had it on him when he ran. He could have hidden it at his place.” He stopped, then gave a short nod. “That’s where we need to be. His place. He would have hidden it and then run.”
“Why?”
“Because it would buy him the time he needed, should they track him down. A chance to escape if they had to transport him somewhere.”
She glanced back at the dead man. “I don’t think that worked out like he planned.”
“Yeah.” His frown deepened as Sally opened her eyes again and this time kept them open. “Sally? Can you hear me? We really need you to wake up. We need your help.”
She raised a hand to her head with a wince. “I . . . maybe. What happened?” Then her eyes flashed. “My children! Howard!”
“The people who were here took them,” Isaac said, “and we’re on a time crunch to find them. So you can’t get hysterical.”
“Took them? My babies!” Sally’s voice rose, and she seemed to be headed straight toward hysteria when she pressed a hand against her head. “I’m going to be sick.” She rolled to her feet and stumbled into the bathroom.
Ruthie followed her.
Once Sally had emptied her stomach, Ruthie placed a cold rag on her head and led her to the den. “Lie down on the couch.”
Isaac sat beside her and held her frozen fingers.
“I know your voice,” Sally said. “Isaac? You were right. Oh my goodness, you were right. I should have run. Why didn’t I run?”
“Hey, I need you to stay calm. Just listen, okay? And think. Did Howard give you any hint of where he might have stashed whatever these guys are looking for?”
“No. I mean . . . I don’t know.”
“Please, Sally. Think.”
“I’m trying! Don’t you think if I knew something I’d tell you? They have my babies! They killed Howard!” Her eyes darted past him to the bedroom. “Oh, Howard.” Tears fell.
“I know. I know. Calm down and catch your breath. I need your help. Your children need your help. Please.”
Harsh breathing and hiccupping sobs wrenched Ruthie’s heart.
Sally finally got herself together and flipped the cloth to the cooler side. “I . . . I asked Howard why people were after him.” She sniffed. “He said he had something they wanted. I told him to give it to them, but he said it was his retirement paycheck.”
“What else?”
“I was scared, so I told him to get out of my house, but he said it was too late. Someone was on the way to bring him the money.”
“Go on.”
“Um. A guy got here and they argued. I was going to get the kids and l
eave, but there was another man blocking my exit. He wouldn’t let me go.” Her voice broke and she cleared her throat. “Then, when Howard said he didn’t have whatever they wanted, that he wasn’t stupid enough to bring it with him, the guy pulled out a knife and stabbed Howard in the hand.” Her last word came out on a squeak.
“Why did they shoot him?”
“Because Howard pulled a gun and tried to shoot the guy who stabbed him. The other guy shot him instead. Then the two started yelling at each other.”
“So, what made Howard tell them I had what they were looking for?”
“I ran over to him, screaming at him to tell me where it was so I could give it to them. He was just gasping, trying to breathe, but he apologized, said he should have known better. The guy who shot him kept demanding he tell him where it was or he’d kill me. And Howard said, ‘Tell Isaac it’s in plain view. He can find the evidence hidden in plain view.’ And he died. He died, and they took my children,” she whispered as sobs wracked her thin frame. She raised a hand to her head. “My head. He didn’t have to hit me so hard.”
“I’ve got some medicine in the car. Let me go get it.” Ruthie ran to the vehicle and snagged one of the pain pills she’d brought just in case Isaac caved and decided to take something stronger. He hadn’t, and she could tell he wasn’t going to. But it would benefit Sally. Ruthie ran back inside, grabbed a cup of water from the kitchen, then returned to the den, where Sally lay on the couch. “Are you allergic to any medications?” Ruthie asked.
“No, not that I know of.”
“Good, then take this.”
“What is it?”
“Lortab.”
“It’ll make me sleepy.”
“Yes, but it will also help your head. Just take it.”
The woman grimaced, but did so. Then she started to weep again.
“What are we going to do?” Ruthie asked Isaac.
“Whatever it takes to rescue them.” He scowled. “This is Howard’s fault. I can’t believe he told them I could find what they need.”
“I keep coming back to one thing,” Ruthie said. “Howard said it was hidden in plain sight.”
“I didn’t miss that. I just have no idea what he’s talking about.”
Code of Ethics Page 6