Monroe, Melody S. - Verdict (Siren Publishing Classic) (30 page)

Surely whoever orchestrated this kidnapping had to know he’d bring reinforcements, unless this person believed he was persona non grata, which he still might be.

His mind spun with different possibilities. “It’s possible Joseph Francisco found out Dominick is dead.”

“How would he know that? Would your boss have called him?”

“Harrison? No, but Thomason might have.”

She sat on the bed. The towel dipped, revealing most of her breasts. He didn’t need to be lusting after her. They had a plan to conceive.

He cleared his throat. “How about you change and meet me downstairs?”

She glanced down and turned a pretty pink shade. “Sure.”

“I’m going to call Tom.”

“I thought you believed he was the one who leaked our location of his dad’s cabin.”

“I did, until I realize lots of people in the office know I used to stay there every summer.”

“Then by all means call him. I’m for all the help we can get.”

Stone spun on his heels and raced downstairs, wondering if he could trust Tom, or should he call Harrison instead? If only he understood how the Franciscos were tied into the murders, he might make a more informed decision.

He understood Dominick wanted Susan dead. According to the partner, Ronnie Stenoff, Dominick had killed Cho. Why? The Franciscos hated the Caravellos. The logic made no sense to him.

Not wanting anyone to trace the call, he used his disposable cell, which was in dire need of recharging. Stone dialed Tom, who picked up on the first ring.

“It’s Stone.”

“Where the hell are you?”

“Hello to you, too.”

“Jesus. I thought you were dead. Richard said you were seriously injured. When I didn’t hear from you, I thought the worst.”

Most of his muscles relaxed. Tom hadn’t betrayed him, and he wouldn’t have Richard’s death on his hands. “I’m fine. Or at least I will be with a little rest.” His thigh ached, but his leg functioned just fine.

“Is Susan dead?” Tom’s voice cracked. “I heard Dominick Francisco killed her.”

“No. I told Richard that’s what happened. I figured he might let it leak she was dead and whoever else was after her would believe it, but apparently I was wrong.”

He regaled his friend with what happened and how he’d killed Francisco.

“Where did you go afterwards?”

“You won’t believe it. We hitched a ride out of the area and ended up visiting Uncle Nicky.”

“No shit. How is the old guy?”

“Good. I know he’d love for you stop by.”

Susan came downstairs and stood next to him. Her brows furrowed. “I called because Susan’s brother was kidnapped today.”

“The guy in the wheelchair?”

“That’s him. I need backup. I can’t go in alone. I know I tied down Richard and broke just about every rule in the book by doing so, but—”

“You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what?”

“Richard confessed everything to Harrison. Told him how he was being blackmailed into giving the addresses of the jurors. When they guy took his kids, he went ballistic. He was told to kill both you and Susan. Only he believed Francisco had taken care of Susan for him.”

“Jesus. Does he know who the guy was?”

“No, and we’ll never find out. Richard ate a bullet this morning.”

Stone’s muscles weakened. “I thought he’d gone off the deep end, but I couldn’t be sure he was our mole.”

Susan waved her hands and mouthed, “Who?”

He placed a hand over the receiver. “Thomason.”

Her eyes widened, and she nodded as if she might have guessed.

“What do you want us to do?” Tom said. “You’ll get the full cooperation of the department. You know that, right?”

He hadn’t five minutes ago. “I have a plan I want to pass by you.”

“Let’s hear it.”

* * * *

She wasn’t happy they had to leave this nice house, but she understood her phone call to her mom had put them in jeopardy. Would the sick bastard have put a bug on her mother’s phone? If he’d ripped her brother out from the house, he probably put some kind of surveillance there.

Whatever. Tom said he’d give the local PD a call and ask them to watch over Caravello’s Maryland house in case anyone tried to break in. He also said he’d ask Harrison to order someone to watch her mom’s place.

Right now, they were on their way to Tom’s house outside DC in a badass snowstorm. The speedometer rarely reached forty and cars were piled up on the side of the road, either broken down or waiting out the storm. The snowplows wouldn’t be able to keep up with this snow dump.

Best case scenario, if they didn’t run out of gas or get in an accident, they would make the meeting a little after midnight. Tom had assured them, via Harrison’s instruction, that the team would have everything under control by the time they reached Virginia.

She appreciated their effort to plan a strategy, but she didn’t need a bunch of agents plotting what might be her last moments on earth without any input from her.

Stone stifled a yawn as he wiped the frosty windshield with his palm. “There’s one thing we can be sure of.”

“What’s that?”

“No one would chance attacking Fort Traynor with a gazillion agents inside.”

“That may be, but I for one will not be sleeping even if I know I’ll be safe. I’ll be worrying all night about what they might have done to my poor brother.”

“Or what they might do to you if you walk in there alone.”

She knew Stone’s opinion about her decision to follow the man’s instructions. “I don’t care what you big agents say, I’m going in.”

“We’ll see.”

An hour after they planned to arrive at Tom’s place, they finally rolled in. From the number of black sedans lining the road, half the FBI was there.

“We’ll have to park at least a block away. I’m sorry.”

“I can walk a block,” she said. The trek to Tom’s front door would be easier than what she’d have to do in seven hours.

Tom met them at the door and gave Stone a hug. “You must be Susan.”

“You guessed it.”

Tom sent Stone a how-did-you-get-so-lucky look, and Susan’s face heated up. No makeup, bloodshot eyes and about a ten pound weight loss made her less than attractive, but she was happy she hadn’t scared them with her appearance.

“Come on in. We’ve tweaked your plan a little.”

Tom introduced her to the other five agents, four of whose names she couldn’t remember. Harrison’s name she recognized. He was older than she expected, and not in the best of shape, but he had an honest look about him.

The rest of the men all had short haircuts, were about six feet, well built, and looked between the ages of thirty and forty. Short life span for an agent, she guessed.

Tom spread out a large pad on the coffee table with a diagram of the building.

Harrison leaned over the map. “We debated sending in a trained FBI agent in your place, Ms. Chapman, but if you’re familiar to any of them we—”

“No substitute. I’m going in. I don’t want to give whoever is doing this a reason to shoot Craig. And, before you ask, I won’t wear a wire. They’ll find it and kill me and Craig.”

All six men nodded, including Harrison, who was clearly the lead. “We agree. No wire, but we’ll give you a cell phone with GPS on it in case they don’t realize its importance.”

“They’ll know, but I don’t mind the phone.” She leaned back against the seat, but the thick tension in the air kept her alert. “So what have you decided?”

“You’ll take one of our cars to the site. We’ll be…around. No one will know we’re there.”

This kidnapper seemed sharp and would know she was under the protection of the FBI. He’d suspect the agents would be strategically placed out of sight. They must have concocted some kind of escape route for her.

“And Stone? Where will he be?”

Stone took a hold of her hand and squeezed. “The less you now, the better.”

She swallowed, not liking the way he wouldn’t look at her. She didn’t argue. Stone would do what he thought best for both her and Craig.

“What happens to my mother during this whole plan? I don’t want anyone to go after her.”

The tallest of the group raised his forefinger. “Got that covered, ma’am. She’ll be safe. No one will get to her.”

Good. Her pulse slowed knowing someone was looking out for Mom.

Tom chugged the rest of his drink. “We all know what we’re going to do. Let’s get some shut-eye and be back here by 0600 ready to rock and roll.”

* * * *

Despite cranking the heat to full blast in the unfamiliar sedan, her bones wouldn’t get warm. Her fingers were stiff, and sweat dripped down the back of her neck. Nothing was working right. Not her mind or her heart. She’d never been this frustrated, and yes, scared, in her life.

Take that back. Almost burning to death came close, and having a gun pointed at her chest didn’t lower her blood pressure any, but knowing she could turn back at any moment had her doubting her decision. Then Craig’s smiling face entered her mind and she knew what she had to do. He’d always been her baby brother. When he lost use of his legs after the accident, she’d been the one to hug him and care for him. She’d promised she’d take care of him no matter what.

The FBI agent’s voice on the other end of her headset startled her. “Take your next right.”

Even with the Bureau spread around the warehouse, her nerves took a beating. She glanced at her hand gripping the wheel. The kidnapper’s number hadn’t washed off the skin, reminding her she could die today.

Stone’s voice flashed in her head. What would her death do to him? Would he pine over her loss, then move on? Or would he fall apart? Like she’d do if he took a fatal bullet.

“You’re almost there,” the annoying, yet somehow comforting, voice announced.

Tom had put a trace on the phone number she’d given them but had gotten nowhere. They said the man probably tossed the prepaid cell in the trash. It didn’t matter now. She was here, ready to confront the bastard.

The large red brick warehouse loomed before her. Alone for the first time in days, her vulnerability index shot through the roof. Could she get out of the car and enter a building filled with men toting submachine guns aimed at her? She hoped. Was she willing to die today? For her brother’s safety, yes. Would her actions save her brother? God help them all if it didn’t.

“I’m turning off the phone now.”

“Good luck, Ms. Chapman.”

She wanted to ask if she could speak with Stone, but in case the kidnappers were monitoring what she said, the team thought it better to restrict conversation.

If she had spoken to him, what would she have said? Be careful? Don’t do anything foolish? Or would she have told him that she loved him?

Better not to tell him that last bit. He had enough to worry about. The next time she held him in her arms and ran her hands down his chest, she’d let him know how much he’d grown on her, how much he meant to her.

She wiped the moisture threatening to spill from her lids and pushed open the door. The morning sky was bright blue, clear and cold. Innocuous, inviting, but not calming. The wind was nearly still, the ground white and pure. Some broken equipment lay buried under the winter blanket, giving the place a feeling of abandonment.

She studied the pristine landscape. Some might call her pause akin to procrastination, which wasn’t entirely true. She wanted to memorize the details in case she needed to escape later.

Bullshit.

Okay. Okay
. She wanted to know how the kidnappers had gotten inside. There weren’t any tire tracks. Anywhere. Had they spent the night inside before the snow fell in earnest? If so, where were their cars? How had they brought Craig inside?

Stop asking questions.

No doubt, someone was watching her. She didn’t dare look up on the rooftops where she would hopefully find a hundred agents with guns trained on all the windows. She didn’t want to give anything away.

She’d promised she’d come alone. No cops. No friends. No one. The kidnapper had made sure to say, “no Stone Watson.”

She believed she’d be facing daddy Francisco, a man who wanted revenge. Not for putting away his archenemy, but perhaps for Stone killing his only son.

She had yet to figure out why he wanted the jurors dead in the first place, but her analysis would have to wait. Taking a large breath, she plowed ahead, her heart beating against her ribs, much too fast to provide her with a sense of calm. Who was she kidding? Not even her pinky had a hint of composure. Her legs were leaden, her breath shallow, and her mind told her to run.

But she wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Too many lives—hers, Craig’s, her mother’s, and Stone’s—depended on her doing as the man instructed.

She reached the front of the building without wetting herself. The windowless front door was made of heavy metal, all rusty and paint chipped. She tugged on the handle, and the door eased open. The temperature warmed slightly once she stepped inside, and she wiped her nose.