Nothing's Sweeter than Candy (22 page)

“What is it, Joyce? I don't like that look.”

“Is this where Candace is supposed to be?”

“Yes.”

“This doesn't make sense. That's way on the other side of the city. Candace would never go there without a reason.”

“How do you know? Maybe something unexpected came up.”

“Obviously you know nothing about that part of town. To call it a rough neighborhood would be an understatement. It's run down and virtually controlled by thugs and felons. All the law-abiding citizens who could afford to moved out a long time ago. Trust me; it's not the kind of place any woman would go to alone.”

“Joyce, the monitoring equipment Rick uses is state of the art. It's precise. If that's where the reading says she is, then that's where she is. Or at least, that's where the device is. Hopefully, her being out of touch is simply a case of lousy reception, and all of this will just be a bad scare.”

“What if it's not just a bad scare?” Blaine asked. “What's your next move?”

“My next move is to hunt the bastard down and beat him to within an inch of his life, or kill him.”

“Look man, I've got your back. But I can't stand by and allow my best friend to commit a crime. We need a solid backup plan, something
other
than beating the crap out of the man or committing murder. I know people in law enforcement, and the district attorney is a close friend. If by chance we need to call officials in, they'll already be onboard.”

“Why would they be willing to take action on a gut feeling with no proof?”

“Two reasons. One, a legitimate concern backed by considerable circumstantial evidence, and two. I may be a corporate lawyer, but I'm still a lawyer. That counts for something in certain circles,” Blaine responded with a grim look.

“Thanks, man. I'm glad you're here. You go ahead and do what you have to do, and Joyce and I will look for Candace.”

They found her car parked at the site Rick had given him, but Candace was nowhere to be seen. Joyce was right—it was a seedy part of town, a place where drug addicts, drunks, and criminals resided. Candace would have no reason to be there. Joyce called her cell phone again, and this time they could hear a ringtone coming from somewhere inside the car. She took an extra set of keys from her purse and unlocked the door. They found Candace's phone, purse, and the tracking bracelet all lying in a pile on the passenger seat.

Brice's heart clinched with unspeakable fear. When he examined the bracelet, he could see that the clasp was twisted and broken, as though it had been ripped from her arm. She had certainly been taken against her will, and Brice had no doubt Nash was involved. Her car had been purposely left in this godforsaken part of town to be stolen, vandalized, or picked apart, to leave nothing of value behind.

“Where is she?” Joyce's fear was palpable.

“I don't know, but we're going to find her.” Brice scanned the dilapidated buildings and surroundings with an uneasy feeling. “We need to get out of this area, fast, but we can't just leave her car here to be stripped. The police may want to go through it later to look for evidence. I want you to get in her car and drive it home. Try not to touch anything. I'll take it from here and call you when I have more news.”

Joyce hesitated and studied his face with troubled eyes.

“Go on, do as I say, and don't worry. I promise you, I'm going to find her.” He hugged her hard before letting her leave. Then he got into his own vehicle and called Rick.

“She's not here. Her car was empty and parked on the street in a very bad part of town. The bracelet and her other personal effects were left inside. I need you to initiate backup plan B. Once you have the new location, I want you to meet me there. I'll contact Blaine and keep him updated.”

Brice stayed on the line and waited for the new coordinates. He'd always been a cautious man, and had backup plans for his backup plans. This was especially true when it involved the safety of the woman he loved. He'd gone a step further and had Candace's anklet fitted with a tracking device at the same time he'd had the bracelet fitted. Given that it was a smaller, more intricate piece of jewelry, Rick had replicated it and had turned the entire piece into an electronic tracking mechanism, like something straight out of a James Bond movie. Brice knew she never took it off. It had become so much a part of her that it could go virtually unnoticed. He was counting on it.

• • •

They all arrived at the new location—Brice, Rick, and, thanks to Blaine, a small contingent of the city of Atlanta Police Department's finest as backup. Blaine had managed to convince the DA's office that their support might be warranted. Of course, mentioning that the concerned party was the son of a former U.S. Ambassador didn't hurt either.

The site was a small, nondescript housing complex on the east side of town, several miles from where her car had been found. The team set up surveillance a short distance away and watched for movement inside and outside of the house. The police blocked off all incoming traffic and began formulating a plan to gain entrance, while Rick used the tracking device to pinpoint her location within the house.

If, as the device indicated, Candace was inside, the extraction had to pose as little danger to her as possible. They were still considering options when a pizza delivery car pulled up to the blocked entry. Officers questioned who the delivery was for and learned it was intended for the very house they were setting up watch on. After drawing up a hasty plan, one of the policemen exchanged places with the driver. He pulled on his cap and jacket, and drove his car through the blockade. He was preceded by a SWAT team on foot who took up positions on either side of the door. Brice was adamant that he be allowed to join them, but for safety concerns he was ordered to remain behind the barrier.

The “delivery boy” rang the doorbell and waited.

“What the hell took you so long? I've been waiting for forty-five minutes. Your promo says you'll deliver in thirty minutes or less, or I pay half. Well guess what, buddy? You get exactly half and no tip.”

“Sorry, sir. There was a traffic delay a ways up the road. Somebody had an accident.”

While Nash dug through his wallet, the policeman scanned the room behind him. He took the money and handed over the pizza, then touched the bill of his ball cap as the prearranged signal for the takedown. Suddenly, Nash was rushed by four armed SWAT team members, who pushed him onto the floor and handcuffed him before he could utter another word. He was taken down without a fight and trussed up like a prize pig at the county fair, ready for roasting. The only thing missing was an apple stuffed in his mouth.

Brice pushed through the containment line and rushed into the house. Candace was found in one of the bedrooms, her limp body sprawled face down across the mattress. His heart pumped wildly at the sight of her. He hurried to the bed and cradled her in his arms. He tenderly planted butterfly kisses on her lips and cheeks and gently patted her face. Her skin was pale and cool to his touch.

“Candace? Baby, wake up.” She didn't respond. “Come on baby, it's Brice. Wake up now.”

The EMTs arrived and firmly moved him aside to check her vital signs and administer first aid. Next to the bed were a syringe and a small vial of liquid, which the medics immediately checked. The bottle was three quarters full.

“Her heartbeat is irregular, and her breathing is too shallow.” The EMT hurriedly put a respirator mask over her face.

“Her pulse is extremely weak, too.”

“We've got to get fluids into her and get her in the wagon, stat.”

Brice watched and listened as the two worked to revive Candace. The urgency with which they operated terrified him. He was choking on mixed emotions of anger, fear, and self-recrimination. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to protect her and keep her safe. He'd failed. She meant the world to him, and he didn't know what he'd do if he lost her.

Terror turned into rage and he rushed into the outer room. Nash stood between two police officers, his hands cuffed, and each man gripping an arm.

“You bastard! What did you give her?”

Nash remained silent, his mouth curved upward in a contemptuous smile. Furious, Brice streaked across the room and, ignoring the two officers, punched him right in the face, knocking him over backwards. He fell on top of him, intent on turning his body into a punching bag, but the remaining officers lunged forward and pulled him off before he could do more damage.

“You'd better pray to God she comes out of this okay!” he shouted. “If anything happens to her, you're a dead man.”

Nash was pulled to his feet, bleeding from his mouth and nose, his sneering smile noticeably missing. His top lip was busted, and his nose was bent to one side, probably broken. “Are you going to let him get away with that? He assaulted me!”

“Assaulted? Did you see anyone assaulted, Ted?” one of the officers holding onto Nash asked the other.

“No.” Ted shook his head solemnly. “I didn't see any assault. I saw Mr. Nash here trip and take a header off the top step. It was a nasty fall.”

“We'll see what my lawyer has to say about this,” Nash snarled. “The press is going to have a field day. When I'm done, you jerks won't be laughing then.”

Brice shook himself free of the other officer's hold and leaned over and breathed in Nash's face with unbridled contempt. “In case you haven't noticed, dickhead, you've got bigger problems to worry about. Kidnapping is a serious offense, you crazy, arrogant fuck. And this time there won't be anyone to make the charges disappear. You're going to jail. You're going to jail for a very long time.”

Doctors and nurses rushed from every direction to meet the ambulance when it arrived, and Candace was immediately taken into the emergency room. Against his will, Brice was forced to wait outside to answer questions and deal with admittance paperwork. It felt like hours before a doctor came out to speak with him, and the news caused his heart to drop straight into his shoes.

“She's still unconscious. Her breathing is shallow, and her heart rate is practically nonexistent. We're flushing her system and trying to raise her blood pressure and pulse rate back to within normal levels. He gave her multiple intramuscular injections of Lorazepam, and it appears she might have had an allergic reaction. The drug alone is extremely powerful; the allergy complicates matters more and could cause respiratory failure. A few more hours and she could very well have died. The good news is we got to her in time. Currently her condition is grave, but she appears to be responding favorably. But I'm afraid that for now, all we can do is give it time and wait and see what happens.”

Brice felt as though he'd been physically punched right in the chest. He found it hard to breathe with pain in his heart so severe and fear so strong; he was scared to death he was going to lose her. Even though the doctor's prognosis was promising, he didn't feel reassured. If she didn't come through this, he didn't know how he'd survive.

Word spread quickly that Candace had been found. The waiting room was in chaos as friends and family arrived, anxious for news. In typical fashion, Brice had lied about being her fiancé and had been allowed to stay by her side the entire time. He was there when her parents, Blaine and Joyce, Sarona and David, and a whole host of coworkers and acquaintances arrived. Now everyone waited and worried together over what the outcome would be. Her parents were led to the ER to see her, and Brice reluctantly stepped aside and went to join their friends.

Brice briefly filled them in and assured them that Nash had been taken away in handcuffs. Joyce hugged him tightly. “Thank God you found her in time.”

“I let her down, Joyce. I let that crazy bastard get to her.”

“How can you say that? If it weren't for you, that ‘crazy bastard' might still be loose, and Candace could have been lost to us forever. You saved her, Brice, you and Blaine.” She stretched out her hand to pull Blaine closer and took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “Thanks to the two of you, we have a reason to be grateful. We have our girl back.”

Her parents returned to the waiting area, both in a state of shock. Brice, along with Joyce, went over to introduce himself. “Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Brown. You don't know me, but my name is Brice Coleman, and I'm deeply in love with your daughter.”

Eighteen hours later, her condition was downgraded from grave to “guarded,” and she was turned over to general care. Brice made arrangements to have her placed in a private suite with an adjoining room for her family. He spent every moment sitting next to her bed, when he wasn't lying beside her and holding her, waiting for her to wake up.

• • •

She awoke to the sensation of warmth radiating from the body lying next to her, encircled in familiar arms and surrounded by the uniquely familiar fragrance of pure male. Her head was pillowed against a solid chest that rose and fell with every breath. She smiled at the reassuring sound of gentle snoring and snuggled in closer and breathed him in, imprinting on his scent. She knew this body ... this scent ... this man.

She remembered floating on a cloud of fantasy and drifting in and out of consciousness, unanchored in a place where time had no meaning. She remembered the sound of voices. So many voices. There were people everywhere. Only one persistent voice had penetrated her foggy mind, and she let it draw her back from the dark void. She'd fought her way back. To him. For him. The veil of fantasy and fog had been lifted. This wasn't a dream. This was real.

She laid her hand on his chest and lightly stroked it, tracing his masculine lines and drawing tiny circular patterns with her finger.

He stirred. His grip tightened, and he buried his face in her hair and brushed the top of her head with a kiss. “You're awake.”