Love Inspired Suspense May 2015 #2 (56 page)

EIGHTEEN

H
oisting himself quickly to the top of the downed tree, Grayson could scarcely believe what he was seeing. Hadn't he told her to stay by the creek? To wait in safety until he called her? She hadn't, and she was about to be taken down by a guy who looked like he'd gladly drag the knife from her hand and use it to slit her throat.

Grayson scrambled over the tree and tackled the guy as he lunged for Laney and the boy.

They all went down in a heap, tangled in weeds and thorny brush.

The guy was big. Maybe six-foot-four, muscular.

And angry.

He pushed himself to his knees and threw a punch; Grayson dodged it, the man's knuckles barely grazing his jaw. Grayson managed to land a well-placed blow to the man's cheek. The guy fell backward, knocking into Laney as she scrambled to her feet, grabbing the boy under the arm to drag him from the fray.

She stumbled. Falling to her knees, she shoved the boy out of reach. The kidnapper's arm shot out and grabbed Laney's calf. She tried unsuccessfully to kick him off while Grayson punched the guy in the back.

The man cursed but didn't relinquish his hold on Laney. He yanked her toward him across the brush like a rag doll. Grayson heard Laney gasp. Her chest hit the ground first, knocking the wind out of her.

Grayson landed a quick blow to the perp's head, and then another. Other than a faint grunt, there was no acknowledgment that the hits had any effect on the guy. Behind Grayson, the other officers were crashing through the brush to help.

The man relentlessly dragged Laney toward him, ignoring the kicks from her free leg.

Grabbing the guy in a choke hold, Grayson yanked him backward. Still he refused to release Laney.

Laney looked up, meeting Grayson's gaze over the perp's shoulders. He recognized the anger and determination he saw there. Without warning, she sliced her pocketknife across the guy's hand. With a howl, he let go of her leg.

She scrambled away and rushed to the boy, who stood watching wide-eyed by a tree. Grayson tightened his grip around the guy's neck. Reese nudged in beside Grayson, taking cuffs from his belt. He snapped them onto the suspect's wrists and pulled him to his feet.

“Hey! That crazy chick cut my hand! I need a medic!” the perp howled.

“You'll get one.”
Eventually
, Grayson thought, but he didn't say it.

He was too busy striding to Laney's side, taking the knife from her hand. “Are you nuts?” he nearly shouted. “You could have gotten yourself killed!”

“What was I supposed to do?” she asked, touching the hair of the little boy who was clinging to her waist, his head buried against her abdomen. “Let the guy escape with Carson?”

“What you were supposed to do was stay away,” he reminded her. “Until I told you differently.”

“If she had,” the boy said, shooting Grayson a dark look, “she couldn't have rescued me.”

“I didn't rescue you. Jax did,” Laney said. “Want to meet him?”

“Who's Jax?” Carson asked.

“I'll show you. Jax, come,” Laney called, and the dog bounded out from the underbrush.

“He's so cool!” Carson dropped to his knees to pet Jax, his face suddenly animated. “When we saw the dog the first time, that guy made me hide under that tree with him so the dog wouldn't know where we went. He said I had to stay quiet or he'd kill me.”

Grayson kneeled on the ground next to Carson. “So you did what he said, right?”

Nodding, Carson hugged Jax. “I was afraid of him. He was mean. He tried to shoot the dog, but I hit his arm so he would miss.”

Laney went to her knees too, enveloping the boy and dog in a big bear hug. “Thank you for saving Jax.”

“I knew Jax was good. We learned about search dogs in Boy Scouts. I knew he would bring me help, and he did.”

“Yep, he did his job well. Now he gets his reward. Do you want to help me give it to him?” Laney asked.

“Sure, what is it?”

She pulled out two orange balls, squeaking them.

Jax turned toward the sound, ready to run.

“He gets playtime with his favorite toy for a job well done.”

She chucked the ball as far as she could, and they both laughed as Jax rushed forward, jumping up and snatching it out of the air before it hit the ground.

Squeaking it in his mouth, the dog returned, dropping the ball at her feet as she launched the next one in the air.

“Grab that ball, Carson, and throw it as soon as he brings the other back—let's see who gets tired first, him or us!”

Grayson was betting on the two of them, since the ball of energy that was Jax showed no sign of stopping anytime soon.

Watching the woman who would likely never fail to surprise him, laughing and playing with the dog and the boy in the midst of what should have been a very traumatic day for all, Grayson realized Laney's affinity for dogs translated to children as well. Her fearless confidence and her empathy for the helpless attracted both to her. And right now, with this boy, she was managing to single-handedly end his bad day on a good note.

Although there were many people who had worked together to find and rescue Carson, Laney and her hero dog Jax would stay with the boy always. As he grew older and recounted this story, Laney would always be in it. His own fearless protector.

Funny. Grayson's story about the day would be the same.

Empty of the million little details that had made the rescue successful, and filled with hundreds of images of a woman he knew he would never forget.

* * *

Noon, and Laney was exhausted.

She should probably get up from the porch rocker and go inside, but she was too tired to move. Grayson and Kent were a few feet away, talking to the two FBI agents assigned to her protection detail for the next few days. The sun had grown warmer, but dark clouds rolled in on a humid breeze, threatening rain.

Tonight would mark forty-eight hours missing for Olivia.

Two days of tracking one clue after another, but never seeming to get closer to the answers they needed to bring Olivia home. Laney was frustrated, irritated, antsy to see progress made on the case.

She had sensed some frustration in Grayson, as well. He hadn't been happy that the kidnapper's interrogation had been put on hold to treat his hand. Laney was sorry that the interrogation would have to wait, but she couldn't say she completely regretted the bone-crushing stomp to his hand that had apparently broken two fingers. She didn't regret cutting him, either. He'd deserved it, and worse, as far as she was concerned. She only hoped that Grayson and Kent would be able to uncover some link between this kidnapping and the others.

One thing was certain. Today's kidnapper was not the same man who took Olivia.

Kent and Grayson came up the porch stairs, the two FBI agents right behind them. “Laney, if it's okay with you, we'd like to use your house to have the FBI agents work with Arden and me on reviewing some of the case files that were faxed over this afternoon...the more eyes the better,” Kent said.

“Make yourselves at home,” she responded, gesturing to the front door.

The three other men walked inside.

Grayson stayed put, his gaze on Laney.

“You don't really think I'm going to leave you out here alone, do you?” he asked.

“I was hoping.”

“Tired of all the people in your house?” He reached for her hand, tugging her to her feet.

“Tired, period.” She would have stepped away, but he pulled her closer, looked straight into her eyes.

“From the search?”

“From everything.”

“Was it hard?” He traced a line from her ear to the corner of her jaw, his hand sliding down and resting on her nape. He kneaded the tense muscles there.

“Stopping the kidnapper?” she asked, her mind more on his touch than on his questions.

“Going back to search and rescue.”

“It was as easy as taking my next breath,” she admitted, and he smiled.

“I thought it would be.”

He opened the door and let her walk inside ahead of him. They followed the sound of voices into the dining room.

Arden was there, Kent and the two FBI agents a few feet away, watching as she systematically stacked documents on the table.

Arden placed the last piece of paper in the pile and finally looked up.

“There. I've organized these records by date and placed the original records we received today via fax in front of the records Grayson downloaded from his system. This is how I propose we tackle the review.” She was interrupted by Grayson's phone.

He glanced at his caller ID and frowned. “Excuse me, everyone. I need to take this call.”

Laney watched him walk away and fought the urge to follow. It still bothered her that she was relying on him so completely, but not as much as it might have a couple of days ago. She realized now it was okay to accept help when needed. And deep down, she knew she would be all right when he was gone. Even though a small part of her would be sad to see him go, she would always be grateful for what he'd done. Not just protecting her, but helping her get back to the person she wanted to be.

She'd taken the first step in moving on. She'd brought herself and Jax out of retirement. Maybe it was time to take the next step and join another search and rescue team here in Maryland. When this was over, she'd have to thank Grayson for helping her remember that some things were worth fighting for.

* * *

“DeMarco,” Grayson said, pressing the phone to his ear. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn't have taken the call, but it was Ethan, and Grayson would do anything for his friend.

“Gray, its Ethan. How are things going?”

“We might have something to go on. We stopped a kidnapping today. The perp will be brought in for questioning after he's released from the hospital.”

“Do you have evidence that he's connected to the other kidnappings?”

“No.”

“Could be coincidental.”

“You know how rare stranger abductions are, Ethan.”

“I do, but rare doesn't mean they don't happen,” Ethan responded, a sharp edge to his voice. That surprised Grayson. In the years he'd known Ethan, he'd never known the man to be short-tempered or impatient.

“Either way, I have to look at every possibility.”

“Right.” Ethan laughed it off, any hint of impatience suddenly gone. “I actually didn't call to argue. I wanted to let you know it will likely be another day before I can get to the Maryland precinct—Judith's brother's in town, and she needs me to hang around and play host. If you can send me records, I can start to go through them for you.”

“We've got a group of people comparing the hard copies with the electronic files I've been working with for months—I can have someone scan them in and send them to you if you think you'll have a chance to look at them.”

“I'll make the time, Gray. Send them my way when you can.”

“Thanks, Ethan, I'll talk to you soon.” Grayson disconnected, less satisfied with the conversation than he usually was when he spoke to Ethan for some reason he couldn't quite define.

He shook off the unease, walking back into the dining room and taking a seat next to Laney.

“Great. You're here,” Arden said. “Ready to work?” She handed him a stack of files. “This is our West Coast file.”

Grayson started skimming the reports. Everything matched up until he reached the fifth page. There he found a name he hadn't seen before.

Ethan Conrad. Called in for consultation.

That's what the file said.

Why had Ethan failed to mention the consulting services to Grayson? Could there be a simple explanation? Maybe. But it didn't seem possible that he'd just forgotten. Even if he had, why was the information in one file and not the other? “Who has the original Boston files, months one and two?” he asked.

“I've got them,” Kent said.

“Was any consulting company listed in the reports?”

“Not a company, but a man was mentioned. It was an FBI profiler, I think...here it is, Ethan Conrad.”

Grayson skimmed the page, comparing this entry to the California entry.

Arden looked up at the mention of Ethan's name, catching Grayson's eye. “Ethan consulted on both those cases?”

“Yes. And that information was deleted from the doctored files.”

“What about here in Maryland?”

Grayson grabbed the Maryland files, skimming them for Ethan's name, relieved when he didn't find it. Perhaps there was a legitimate reason for Ethan's involvement. “Nothing in Maryland.”

But then, Grayson thought, there was no need to consult here in Maryland. Grayson had discussed the case at length with Ethan after taking over for the agents in Boston at Ethan's recommendation.

They talked almost daily, about everything. Ethan was a sounding board. A trusted advisor.

Could he also be a callous criminal?

Grayson's mind raced. He'd known Ethan for years, trusted him like family. There had to be another explanation.

Kent Andrews's phone rang.

He answered, his gaze focused on Grayson.

He was going to have to share his suspicions with Andrews. He had no choice. He had to run this lead down. If Ethan was innocent, he'd understand.

Andrews's phone conversation took less than a minute. When it was over, he smiled. “Good news, Grayson. We finally have a jailbird that's ready to sing.”

“The suspect is talking?”

“Not just talking, singing like a jaybird! He said he was paid five grand to snatch a kid.”

“Who paid him?” Grayson asked.

“A guy he met while incarcerated—David Rallings Jr.”

“So our floater paid him to snatch a kid...”

“Yep, and deliver the kid to an access road near Camp Cone.”

“Camp Cone is up there near Glenn Arm, isn't it?” Laney asked.