Found Missing (Decorah Security Series, Book #14): A Paranormal Romantic Suspense Novel (8 page)

Mack clamped his lips together. Turning, he walked ahead of the gunman back toward the Decorah patient facility.

“Open the door and walk down the hall.”

He did, skirting the security desk and ending up in the room with the comatose patients. The other two gunmen were there, holding Terry Montrose, the orderly, and Lily at gunpoint.

A spurt of hope flashed across her face when she spotted Mack. Then she saw that his hands were raised, and the third gunman was in back of him.

When she started to speak, he gave a small shake of his head, and she closed her mouth.

The guy who had brought him in frisked him—and found the weapon in his shoulder holster.

“What have we here, Mr. IT guy?” he said in a sarcastic voice.

“I have it for protection.”

“A lot of good it did you,” the thug sneered.

Mack swung his gaze to the other two men. They were similar types, well-built men who looked like they could handle themselves in a fight. One of them was bald. The other had an Asian cast to his eyes and jet-black hair pulled back in a short queue.

“Over there,” Buzz Cut said. It looked like he was the one in charge.

Mack gave the captors a fearful look and walked toward Lily and Terry.

“I don’t know these people,” he said. “This isn’t fair. Why am I here?”

“Fair, yeah right,” the head thug said with a sneer in his voice. “You were at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“We don’t have any street drugs here,” Lily said.

“We’re not after drugs.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Jenny Seaver,” the guy said.

“Who?” Lily asked.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Buzz Cut looked at the other two guys. “See which bed she’s in.”

Buzz Cut kept them covered while his companions began walking through the rows of beds, looking at the patients.

After long moments, the two henchmen returned to their boss. “She ain’t in one of the beds I checked,” the Asian guy said.

“Me neither,” baldy echoed.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Buzz turned to the captives, “Who’s in charge?”

“I am,” Lily answered.

“Where is she?”

“Who?”

“I told you. Jenny Seaver.”

“We’ve never had anyone here with that name.”

“You’re lying.”

Terry spoke up in a voice he couldn’t quite hold steady. “We had a Jenny Seville.”

“Okay maybe she changed her name. Describe her.”

“She’s in her early or mid-twenties, I think. She had blue eyes, short caramel-colored hair.”

“Yeah, that’s her. Where is she?”

“She left—against medical advice,” Lily answered.

Mack had been waiting for the right moment to contact his brother. The exchange about Jenny seemed like his best bet. While the conversation was going on, he turned slightly away, desperately sending his thoughts out to Grant.

What?
Grant asked, sounding impatient when he heard the voice invade his mind.

We have a big problem. When I pulled into the parking lot at the Decorah Facility, I saw guys with assault rifles go in there. I pretended I was heading for the DSR unit, but one of them came after me and brought me back.

Christ.

Call Decorah. I can’t keep talking now. They’re going to think I’m doing something weird.

Get back to me when you can.

             
oOo

Grant looked up to see Jenny’s eyes riveted to his face. “Something bad happened.”

“The medical facility is under attack.”

“By whom?”

“Men with assault rifles.”

“Looking for me, I’m sure. I told you something like that could happen. I was right.”

“I’m not going to waste time arguing with you now.”

Pulling out his phone, he called the Decorah main number. The canned voice from the phone company said that the circuits were busy.

He tried again and got the same response.

Christ, was this a systematic attack where the bad guys had wiped out the agency?

“Now what?” Jenny asked when she saw the frustration on his face.

“I can’t get hold of Decorah,” he answered, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

“Why not?”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

He was heading toward the door when he stopped short, caught in a dilemma.

Once again, Jenny reacted to his look. “What?”

He answered with a curse, then elaborated. “I don’t want to drag you into danger, but I can’t leave you here because I think you’ll disappear again, and this time I’m afraid I won’t find you.”

She didn’t contradict him.

“Running away now isn’t the answer.”

“Why not?” she asked in a defiant voice

“Because the bad thing you were afraid of has already happened.”

She winced.

“Come on. We’re wasting time.”

“And what are we going to do when we get there?”

“I don’t know.”

Grim-faced, he marched her out of the room and toward the car. Silently he cursed the situation—and his lack of preparation. He always contacted the office through the main line. And if not, he could always get Mack on their private mental connection. That was why he didn’t have cell phone numbers for any of the other guys.

“Shit.”

He appreciated that she didn’t interrupt while he tried to think himself out of the quicksand.

She’d asked what he was going to do when he got to the patient facility. He couldn’t exactly drag Jenny in there, not where she was the one the bad guys were obviously looking for.

Back in the car, he held up his cell phone.  “You’re going to have to alert someone from Decorah.”

“Who?”

“The first guy you can reach.” He found the information number in the system and thought for a moment. Frank was only available through the office number. “Maybe the most efficient thing is to start with the Marshalls.”

“Marshals?” she asked. “Like in the Old West?”

“No. A bunch of the guys who work for Decorah are cousins and have the same last name. Start with Cole Marshall. If you can’t get him, try Brand Marshall. Or Rafe Marshall.” He didn’t explain that the Marshall cousins were all werewolves. That would be too much information at the wrong time.

As he drove toward Beltsville, he heard her talking to the information operator. Or maybe she was talking to a robot.

Just as they reached the turn into the industrial park, she said, “Okay, got it—301-555-2130.”

“Who is it?”

“Brand.”

He waited with his pulse pounding in his ears while the phone rang. Then he heard the werewolf answer, “Grant?”

“Just a minute.” Jenny handed him the phone.

“Problem?” his friend asked.

“Yeah. I can’t get through to the main Decorah number, and there’s a situation.”

Quickly he explained that the patient facility was under attack—from three gunmen, most likely looking for Jenny.

“I’ll get a counterforce together as quickly as possible,” the other agent promised, then paused. “Don’t go in ‘til we get there.”

“I . . .”

“There’s no point in your getting captured, too—or killed.”

He wanted to pound the wheel in frustration because he knew that Brand was right. With his lips set in a grim line, he pulled over to the side of the access road, several yards from the Decorah building.

He felt Jenny’s eyes on him.

“Like I kept saying in the first place, this is my fault,” she whispered.

“No. It’s the fault of the guy who kidnapped you. Your only sin was getting away from them.”

She didn’t answer, and they sat in tense silence waiting for reinforcements to appear.

Jesus, no!

The mental shout of agony came from Mack.

Stay cool,
Grant silently ordered.

“What happened?” Jenny gasped as she read the sick look on his face.

“One of the guys just hit Lily. I’m afraid Mack is gonna do something stupid—like get himself killed.”

Do what it takes to stay alive,
he mentally shouted. He wanted to stay in contact, but he knew he couldn’t affect the scene in the lab from here. Instead he focused on the woman beside him, torn in two directions. He couldn’t lose Mack. And he couldn’t lose Jenny. But could he trust her?

“I have to go in there. Give me your word that you won’t run.”

He saw her internal struggle reflected on her face. Finally she gave him the right answer. “Okay. I won’t run,” she said in a flat voice.

“Get in the backseat. Down on the floor where no one can see you.”

“And be a coward?”

His voice turned fierce. “That’s not being a coward. I have to focus, and I can’t do it if I’m worried about you.”

“Okay,”

Hoping she wasn’t lying, he pocketed his keys, jumped out of the car and started for the building.

oOo

Jenny climbed out of the passenger seat and into the back of the car. Her heart was in her throat as she watched Grant move toward the medical facility. He looked like a man who was caught between speed, urgency and the knowledge that he could end up dead in the next few moments.

He turned back, and when he saw her still sitting up, he gave her a fierce look. She nodded and scooted to the floor, hating that she was using none of the skills she’d acquired while she’d been in the VR. A lot of good they were doing her when all she could manage now was to hide. But she did understand Grant’s point of view. And she’d given him enough grief for one evening.

She had been in turmoil ever since he’d knocked on her motel room door, and she’d met him with a gun in her hand. The look in his eyes had made her heart squeeze painfully. He’d been angry, hurt, worried about her. There was no way she could have shot him, but when she’d put the gun down, she’d braced for him to slap her, or shake her, or show his anger in some physical way as her kidnapper would have done.

She’d gotten used to living with violence, and she’d been half afraid all men were like that. Now she knew for sure that Grant Bradley was different. Instead of lashing out, he’d wrapped her close and let her cry in his arms.

Now he was hurtling headlong toward danger—danger that she had provoked. She simply couldn’t get away from that fact.

Unable to cower on the floor, she popped up again, her gaze zeroing in on him as he reached the entrance to the building, flattened himself against the wall and cautiously looked around the corner, then darted back out of the line of sight.

It took all her willpower to stay in the car. She wanted to
do something.
Yet at the same time, she knew he was right. If she got caught, all of this would have been for nothing.

She kept her gaze glued to Grant. He was moving forward again, and she tensed, sure he was about to go into the building. At that moment, a headlight in the rearview mirror made her head swing around. Two cars were coming down the narrow road. The drivers switched off their lights when they were still behind her.

Who were they? The men Brand Marshall had brought? Or reinforcements for the bad guys?

She saw Grant whirl as the lead car approached. Then she could tell from his posture that it was the Decorah men who had arrived.

The vehicle glided to a stop. Several men got out and conferred with Grant.

One of them rounded the car, and she couldn’t see what he was doing on the other side. Moments later, a big dog—it must have been a dog—trotted into the street. Men stopped beside him, putting something onto the front of his head. It looked like a camera. Maybe the dog was going to be their eyes and ears inside the patient facility.

Grant reached to open the door, and the animal slipped in.

She should go back to her position on the floor, but she simply couldn’t do it.

             
oOo

The situation was rapidly slipping out of control. Lily raised her hand to her cheek, pressing against the stinging slap the leader of the thugs had delivered. She looked from the man who had slapped her to the patients and back again. She’d agreed to be the director here to give these people a safe place after she’d realized Dr. Hamilton was using them for his own purposes. In the time it took to grab a quick breath, everything had changed—for her and them.

When Mack shouted, “Leave her the hell alone,” her attention snapped to him.

Buzz Cut tipped his head to the side, staring at him. “You said you didn’t know these people. It sounds like you care about this broad.”

When Mack didn’t answer, the man smiled. “What’s she to you—your sweetie?”

Lily willed Mack not to answer and make things worse. But they were going rapidly downhill on their own.

“I don’t like to see women abused,” he answered through gritted teeth.

“We can change things around if that’s gonna work better,” the thug said. Turning to one of his men, he ordered, “Grab him.”

Lily wanted to scream, but she knew it was only going to make her look weak.

While the other henchman kept his gun trained on the group of captives, the Asian guy came around behind Mack and grabbed his hands. The leader also put down his weapon on the desk. Taking a step forward, he drew back his hand, then punched Mack in the gut.

He doubled over, gasping for breath.

“Stop it!” Lily cried out.

Ignoring the plea, the thug went on in a conversational tone, “Sounds like we have a nice situation going here. He cares about you. And you care about him.”

“You animal,” she whispered under her breath.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.” She turned her head, trying to judge Mack’s condition.

His face took on a look that could have meant his thoughts had turned inward. But she knew him too well for that. He was reaching out to his brother.

Was Grant already here? And if so, what could he do against three armed men who were holding hostages?

She tried to read Mack’s expression, but he was keeping it deliberately neutral.

“You want me to start shooting patients?” the ringleader asked like he was a teacher considering adding to a homework assignment because the members of the class had been giving him a hard time. “Which one should I take out first? How about that slack-jawed girl in the corner with the drool on her chin? She looks pretty worthless.”

Lily couldn’t hold back a gasp. He was talking about her sister, Shelly. “No. Please.”

“Then tell me where you’re hiding Jenny Seaver.”

Lily fought her fear and frustration. “I’m not hiding her. I was telling you the truth. She disappeared while I was busy.”

Buzz Cut thought about it while the one who had been holding Mack turned him loose and came back to join his friends.

Mack wavered on his feet but stayed standing.

The leader looked at the three captives. “Okay, I’ve got another idea that might make you talk,” he said, addressing Mack. Turning to Lily, he ordered, “Take off your clothes.”

She couldn’t believe that she’d heard him right. “What?”

“Take off your clothes. The guys and I want to see what you’ve got. And if you can’t give us Jenny, you might as well give us some fun.”

To her horror, Lily saw the anger flare on Mack’s face. My God, if he did something stupid like speaking up again he could get himself killed. “Don’t,” she murmured.

He was turned toward her, and his lips formed one word. “Stall.”

She acknowledged with a small nod.

Probably Buzz Cut was enjoying lording it over this group of helpless people. Maybe he was even glad that he had to exert some pressure to find Jenny. Obviously he thought he was totally in charge. She prayed he was going to be very surprised when he found out how wrong he was.

Trying to draw out the moment, Lily took a step back, thrust out her chest, and raised her head like a performer on stage. She could tell from the way the bad guys were watching that they liked the little show, yet this wasn’t a part she really knew how to play.

“Hurry up,” Buzz Cut ordered.

Unable to look at the thug, she kept her gaze focused somewhere over his shoulder as her hands went to the front of her scrub shirt.

She didn’t have to pretend her fingers were shaking as she fumbled with the buttons

All of the men with guns were focused on her, and she saw something they didn’t. At the far end of the reception area, the door had eased open. Moments later, a wolf stuck its head around the security desk in the anteroom. The animal had to be one of the Marshalls. They had sent him in to scope out the interior.

There was something attached to the top of his head. As he swung from side to side, she realized it must be a camera. He came quietly down the hall, paused in the doorway for several moments, and then silently backed up.