Capturing Kate (2 page)

“You recognized the program?”

He smiled. “Yes.”

She swallowed. “I’m better in Excel. I need a tutor.” She flushed, thinking of her earlier daydream.

He regarded her without blinking. “You be careful.” His voice held a note of command.

“What?” She bit her lip, almost looking around her for some kind of lurking danger. God. Ella’s jitters were rubbing off on her. “It’s just math.” She tried to smile.

“You don’t want to get burned, right?” He gestured at the coffee, but his eyes were trained on hers.

“No, I don’t.” Her voice came out low. His gaze was mesmerizing. She stuck out her hand, unable to resist. “I’m Kate.”

“Sloan.” His hand was warm and firm, and she liked the feel of his fingers on hers. For a second, as their eyes locked, she almost thought he was going to kiss her. The way he leaned in, the way his grip tightened, the way his lashes fluttered, his gaze intense—but then he took his hand back and the moment was gone.

“So, Sloan, since we already covered the fact that I’m a statistics-impaired reporter, what’s your story?”

A look passed over his face like a cloud, something of regret and frustration, but then he smiled again. “I’m in finance. Math-inspired.”

“They do say opposites attract.” Kate didn’t know what had gotten into her; all she knew was that this man was pushing buttons in her psyche, sending all kinds of messages rocketing around her brain.

“Don’t trust everything people tell you.” His gaze was implacable.

Kate wrinkled her brow. “Thanks, but that’s covered in Reporting School 101 along with things like,
Did You Try Plugging It In
?”

He laughed. “Touché. How about this one: Do you come here often?”

“Almost every day.” Kate waved at the counter. “Lila’s my best friend, and the coffee here is my second best friend. I like to get breakfast here before work.”

“What are you working on right now?” His eyes were sharp, and he glanced at her laptop.

She shrugged. “This and that. I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” She laughed, but he didn’t; if anything, his expression grew more serious, and the moment turned awkward. “Um.”

His phone trilled with a text; he looked at it and his face shuttered. “I’d better get back to work.” He glanced at his computer screen. “It was nice meeting you. I’m sure we’ll see each other again.” As he looked at her, a shadow passed over his face, almost a look of regret.

“Me too. Actually, I have to get going.” Kate glanced at her watch. Talk about mixed signals! It would be awkward to sit here after this exchange; she’d never be able to focus. She’d work in her car for half an hour and then head for the park to meet Ella. “Until next time.”

“Yeah.” Sloan met her eyes again, and she swore there was a spark there, a glimmer of interest, a ravenous need hidden behind that odd expression. But he just turned back to his table, so she shrugged.

Can’t win them all
, she muttered, giving Lila a wave as she headed out to her sturdy Camry down the sidewalk. The wind picked up in intensity, and the workmen—busy packing away equipment, talking into their walkies—gave her no notice, even though her skirt fluttered like a wild animal against her legs. A few sharp cold drops of rain hit her like bb pellets, and she flinched.
Please, please
, she begged the sky.
Hold out so Ella doesn’t bail. I need her to meet me
.

Chapter Two

Ominous gray clouds filled her rearview window, even though the sky ahead held promising patches of blue, and Kate pushed down on the accelerator, as if speeding down the road could hasten her entire investigation. The park was devoid of activity when she arrived, the rough parking lot empty, and her heart sank. Still, she got out of her car and walked over to the desolate play structure, marooned in the long grass gone to seed like some forgotten island; rusted chains holding no swings, a slide with no ladder. Creepy. It could feature in a dark music video about loss and death.

She wrapped her arms around herself, scanning the lot for activity, then darted her eyes to the start of the forest preserve on the other side. She didn’t like meeting here—it was so forlorn. But Ella had insisted, saying it was perfect—you could see anyone coming, verify you were alone, and it was empty.

Like today. Maybe she’d spot a deer.

To stave off the feeling of loneliness, she called her boss, bolstered to hear his solid voice through the connection. “Mac! Hey. It’s me. I was just checking in.”

“Kate. You out?”

“Yup. I might get rained on, though.”

“It’s going to be a fierce one.” His voice faded into static, then burst back into her ear, clear and bright. “You make your plans for vacation next week?” Mac always took a week off in fall with his family, and he insisted that everyone in the office take at least a few days that week, too. They called it
Mac Break
.

“What vacation?” she joked. The wind picked up and sent cold fingers into her ears, and she wished for a sunny day, a day with enough sun to power an entire Hawaiian vacation. Her mind flashed back to the man in the shop. Then she thought about a white sand beach, and imagined him in snug-fitting swim shorts. He’d be ripped all over, firm and lean, strong. She’d have on her bikini, the red one with white trim, and he’d run lotion—

“Katie? Remember what we talked about? You’ve been pulling too many all-nighters. I want you to take some time off and enjoy it. I promise you, the work will be there when you get back.”

“I know. I’m going to visit my mom. Don’t worry.”

“Where are you with the water plant story?”

“Still digging. Getting closer. I need more info.”

“Be careful.” He hesitated, and something in his voice seemed more serious than usual. “You know, we got a few hang-up calls from anonymous callers this week.”

“I’m fine!” She spoke in a loud, happy voice, as if saying it made it so. “Everything’s going well. My source is still open, Mac. Don’t worry.”

“I just got a message from a colleague in Chicago.” He lowered his voice. “This isn’t common knowledge, so don’t pass it on. Mancini’s on an FBI watch list, Kate.”

“The FBI? What for?” She twisted one curl, uneasy. Her stomach flipped. “For the water plant stuff? That seems… odd.”

“I don’t know, but I’d like you to back off on the water plant report. Not forever, okay? Don’t freak on me. Just for a while. Let’s take a little time to strategize and understand what we’re up against.”

“We don’t have extra time, Mac.” Her voice grew clipped. “The water’s still dirty. It’s as bad as Detroit, going into the Scoville Corners neighborhood, but nobody cares.”

“I care, I promise you. Can you just stop digging for now, and we’ll get on it again after vacation? Go home, Kate.”

“Fine.”

She hung up and stared at the parking lot again, peering toward the park entrance and the main road, barely visible around the curve of trees and bushes. She was already here—no way was she going back if she had Ella within reach. What was twenty more minutes? Mac wouldn’t care. He was talking generalities, anyway.

She was so lost in thought, waiting for Ella’s car to arrive, that she screamed, startled out of her skin, at the touch on her shoulder. “God! Ella?”

The woman was behind her, eyes wide, skin pale. “Katie.”

“God, you scared me!” Kate’s voice rang with fear and accusation. “Ella. Where did you park?” She wrinkled her brow, putting a hand to her neck. “Jesus. My heart is about going out of my chest right now.”

Ella’s eyes teared up. “Katie, I’m so sorry.” Her voice quivered. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay! I just, I didn’t expect you to creep up like that. Where did you even come from?”

“Forgive me.” Ella started to cry now in earnest, wiping at her eyes, hands shaking.

“Ella?” A sense of foreboding prickled. “Forgive you for what?”

The woman buried her face in her hands. “If I did what they said, then they’d pay for doctors to—to fix Eli.” Her voice was high and thin with hope. “They said there are experts in Japan and Germany who can reverse the damage, and he’ll be whole again. I had to do it. I’m so sorry.”

“You had to do what, exactly? Ella? I don’t understand. You’re not making sense.” Kate’s voice rose and her whole body suffused with a sick adrenaline.

Ella grabbed her hand, and Kate felt something hard against her palm. “He’s all I have left. I can’t lose him, too. But if I don’t do it, they’ll kill him.” The woman’s eyes beseeched her, but for what, Kate had no idea.

Working on instinct, she slid her hand into the waist of her skirt and tucked the item into the waistband of her underpants at her hip, then pulled her hand back out to clutch at Ella. “Who said that about Eli? Ella. I need the rest of the data. Did you bring it? You were going to bring me the rest of the data and the maintenance records. The
big thing
you mentioned. Is it here?”

The woman pulled back. “You ruined my life when you came to me and asked me to spy and get data for you. Mine and Eli’s. Innocent people. I wish I’d never met you. But at least you can make it right.”

“Ella! But you wanted to do it. You wanted to help me get Mancini. You were so fervent. You took me to visit the cemetery. You showed me the medical records. I don’t understand what happened. Who threatened you?”

It was now that Kate saw them: men. Three of them, coming from the woods with intent; fast, determined. Ella buried her face in her hands and sank down into a crouch, and even though it wasn’t the time for comparisons, Kate was reminded of a deflated Christmas blowup in the bleary morning light of a hard January: listless, forgotten. One of the men veered toward Ella’s side and the other two came straight at her.

“Kate!” Ella’s voice pierced her. “You have to follow your heart. Follow your heart to find the truth. You can’t pawn off your emotions on anyone else.” Then she clutched at her left arm. “Follow your heart,” she repeated. The expression on her face froze with her breath and she dropped, a stone.

“Oh, God, oh, God.” Kate wanted to help but the men were gaining. She shot upright and started racing for her car. She’d get there and call 911.

“Fuck!” Panic made her light and speedy, and she flew back to the lot, lungs burning. She was there, she was at the car, but where were her keys—she fumbled in her pocket, then her other pocket, and they were nowhere, they were gone, they were missing, and footsteps were coming closer, and all she could feel was overwhelming panic and the acrid taste of bile in her throat.

Her fingers finally touched metal and she wanted to scream with relief, but she still had to open the door and get in, and it all seemed like such an impossible hassle, it would take forever, she’d never make it. But the door was open and she could smell the safe wash of leather and old coffee and she was home free, she was there, she was in and—

Arms grabbed her from behind, a vicious tug, and the sound that came out of her mouth was a scream and a wail, torn from her like from a dying animal. “Let me go!”

She kicked and bucked and heard a curse, and almost broke free, but then the arms were back, strong as steel. A resounding slap to her face had her eyes swimming with tears as the pain swarmed her like bees, thousands of them. The resulting dizziness made her lose balance and she stumbled, and that was all it took. In seconds, she was bound, her wrists tugged behind her until her shoulders strained, and a cloth of some kind wrapped around her head, covering her eyes.

She screamed again and again until a rag went into her mouth, and she coughed and spit and gagged until she couldn’t breathe, and the panic of no air made her sag into her captor’s arms, sucking air through her nose, praying she wouldn’t die right here, right this minute.

Voices. “You got her okay?” She didn’t know that voice. It was rough, with a deep Chicago accent.

“Yeah.” Another unfamiliar voice.

“No body, no evidence, a clean disappearance. You understand?”

“I’ll do what I have to do.”

“Make sure you do. No traces back to him. Understand?”

“Crystal. You gonna take care of that one or you want me to do it, too?”

“He wants her alive right now. We have a doctor we can call. Stupid sick bitch. I’ll do it.”

“Yeah, okay.” The man holding her yanked her arms and she stumbled. Both men laughed.

“I gotta go. I got work to do.” Her captor pulled harder and she cried out in pain.

The laugh, again, the one that made her blood freeze. “Report back tonight. And it all better be taken care of, the car and all. You fuck up, you know what happens.”

“Got it.” Her captor pulled her and she whimpered again, tried to kick, but he picked her up effortlessly and dumped her roughly down. When she heard something slam, she realized she was in the trunk of a car. The trunk of a car! Was it her car? She screamed through her gag, only succeeding in making horrible, weak sounds, the kind of sounds you made in a bad dream, a nightmare where your voice was gone. This was a nightmare. She was going to wake up.
Please, God, let me wake up
.

They drove for a long time, and she passed into and out of consciousness, her panic, the pain, and the lack of oxygen making her groggy and sharp in turns. She tried to wiggle the gag out of her mouth, but the only thing she succeeded in doing was hurting her tongue.

She was supposed to be thinking of ways to get out. As the car lurched over a pothole and she bounced painfully on her bound wrists, she realized that her feet were untied. She kicked at the door, then ran her foot up and down, trying to find the internal release hatch.

Come on, come on. Everyone knew that when you were kidnapped, you had to find that release hatch. On a burst of inspiration, she shucked her shoes, used the opposite toes to help push off the heeled sandals, and reached up with her bare foot. The pain in her wrists was excruciating, and she focused her entire concentration on reaching with her toes, reading the surface of the auto as if it were Braille. She could be patient. She could do this. There it was! But then the car lurched, throwing her against the inner wall, and she screamed into her gag with frustration, feeling tears wet the blindfold. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t do it. She was going to die—No.