Protective Custody (11 page)

“But He didn't.” A flat statement.

“No. He didn't.” Carly felt the familiar lump form in her throat and swallowed.

“I know how you feel.”

Carly squeezed the fragile fingers. “Your mom and aunt?”

“Yes,” Lindsey whispered. “I thought God must have hated me to take them away from me like that.”

“Oh, sweetie, God doesn't hate you. He loves you very much.”

A sad, too-mature smile crossed Lindsey's lips. “I know. At least I used to. I'm not so sure anymore. Not with Christopher gone now.” Two big tears spilled over and down her cheeks. “Things were just starting to get better, and now this.”

Carly pulled the girl into a hug, and Lindsey sighed then gave a hiccup. “But if all the bad stuff hadn't happened, we wouldn't have met you. And I'm glad you're here. So I think maybe even when the bad stuff happens, God lets good stuff happen, too, so we don't totally lose our faith, you know?”

Carly went still. “Good stuff in the midst of the bad?”

“Yeah, something like that, I guess.” She shrugged then stood. “I don't know. I'm going back to my room. I want to be alone for a while.”

“Okay, hon.” Carly let her go, her mind reeling with what Lindsey had just said. She thought back. Had anything good happened in the midst of all the bad?

When Hank had been killed, what good had come from that?

His widow had been left with a hefty sum of life insurance, and the house that had been in the process of fore-closure was paid off. Not the way she'd wanted to do it, but if Hank had to die…

Carly rubbed her eyes.

“You okay?”

She looked up. Mason stood with the laptop in his hand. She waved him over. “What's up?”

“Come here. I want to show you something.” Carly walked into the kitchen and took the chair she'd vacated when Lindsey had claimed her attention.

Mason sat in the chair next to her and placed the computer on the table. “Our officer's name is Ben McCann.”

Footsteps sounded, and she turned. Nicholas descended the stairs looking like he'd aged ten years in the last six hours since Christopher's disappearance.

Without a word, he sat beside her and poured himself a cup of coffee. She wanted to ask him how he was but figured that would be a dumb question. She wanted to hug him, hold him, tell him everything would be all right.

But she just didn't know. Looking away from him, her heart aching like someone had reached in and punched it, she fixed her gaze on Mason and asked, “Yeah, and? Does Ben McCann have a story?” She felt numb inside but knew it wouldn't last. Soon fear, guilt, shame, and more would invade her to the depths of her very being. But for now, she would take the numbness. It wouldn't distract her like the other feelings would.

“A good cop of four years. Nothing negative on his record. But he's in debt up to his ears.”

“Do you think they bought him off? Knocked him out to make us think he didn't have anything to do with it?”

“Looks like it. He just deposited ten grand into his checking account yesterday.”

“Something to definitely check into. When he wakes up from that nasty concussion I'm sure he's got, I want to hear what he has to say for himself. What made you do a background check on him?”

A shrug. “I'm checking everyone.”

She rubbed her eyes. “Okay, but how did they even get to the garage? It's wide open out there. We had people watching the grounds. How would they get from the edge of the woods to that garage without someone seeing them?”

“A good question. Unfortunately, I don't have a good answer.” Mason tapped a few more keys, then said, “If they watched the movements for a while, they may have picked up on a pattern, waited for a break then made their move.”

“And everything happened so quietly. Lindsey didn't hear a thing from the bathroom.”

“If the door was shut, she probably wouldn't.”

In a sudden movement, Nick set his cup on the table and wondered aloud, “Why haven't they called?”

At first Carly didn't speak. Then she drew in a deep breath and looked at him. “Because they don't have to. You know what they want.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

“How's Lindsey?”

“Asleep. Finally.”

“She's feeling guilty, isn't she?”

He lifted a brow in surprise. “Yes, she is. I tried telling her it wasn't her fault, but I don't think she hears me.”

“She will. Just don't give up telling her.” A pause. “I'm sorry, Nick.”

“It's not your fault, Carly.”

“I failed you. I failed myself. I…” Now the emotion swarmed her, and she did her best to beat it back. Through her tears, she saw Nick shoot a look at Mason.

Mason nodded and rose to disappear outside, where he would walk the perimeter.

Nick scooted his chair over and put his arm around her
shoulder. “You didn't fail, Carly. It's not your fault any more than it's Lindsey's.”

Jerking away from him, she stood and stumbled over to the sink. She felt a tear slide down her cheek. Furious at her unprofessional behavior, she turned her back on him and swiped at the wetness.

But he wouldn't let her withdraw from him. Pulling her around to face him, he stared deep into her eyes, into her soul. “You're blaming God, aren't you?”

She looked away, desperately trying to keep the tears from falling.

“Aren't you?” he insisted.

“Yes!” she hissed. “Yes, I am. He's a seven-year-old little boy, Nick. It's not right! Where is the justice in this world anymore? Where? Where's God when stuff like this happens? Why does He let good men with so much to live for get killed? Why wouldn't He intervene when someone enters a house with the intention of kidnapping a little boy in order to force his uncle to—” She broke off because her voice wouldn't work anymore. Sobs crowded her throat, clamoring to get out. But she wouldn't let them. She wouldn't.

For a moment Nick didn't answer. Then she felt his arms slide around her and pull her to him.

The sobs won. She let them out and poured them onto his strong chest.

She felt him plant a light kiss on her hair and felt ashamed at the comfort it gave her. She pulled away and ordered herself to get it together. “I'm sorry, Nick. I'm so sorry. I'll find someone else to take over for me. I'm not able to handle this. I'm being completely unprofessional, and you need someone—” Her voice squeaked and broke again.

Hands cupped her face, and she looked into his eyes. “I
need you, Carly. And you need to do this. To see it through to the end. Just like I have to do.”

“But—”

“Shh….” He placed a finger over her lips. “No buts. God is in control. I can't see His plan. I don't understand why He lets this kind of thing happen, but I trust Him. Do you get that? I really do trust Him. I have to.”

“But Chris…”

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, tears swam there. “I won't say I'm not scared for him. I'm not saying I'm going to like the way this ends, but…” He drew in a deep breath, “I will trust Him. In all things. In all His ways. Okay?”

She shook her head. “I can't do that.”

His forehead touched hers. “Yes, you can, Carly. It's not just a heart decision. It's a head decision. One you have to make over and over, again and again. And it's not easy. But it is real. God is real, His promises are true, and He'll get us through this no matter what.”

“I want to believe that. I really do.” Surprisingly enough, she found she did. She thought back to the brief prayer she'd uttered earlier and the comfort it had given her.

“Then believe it. Ask Him to help you believe it.”

Biting her lip, she pulled away from him and walked back to the kitchen table to pick up her coffee. She took a sip and grimaced at the lukewarm liquid. Without looking at him, she said, “I'll try.”

A hand reached out and grasped her chin. She looked up. “That's all He asks. For your willingness to be open to Him.”

She nodded. “Okay. If you can trust Him in this situation, I can at least be willing to listen if He has something to say to me.”

Nick pulled her to him for a hug, and Carly felt her heart break as she tried to communicate the prayer in her soul.
Please, God, bring Christopher home safe and sound. Help me to believe
.

I
t had been twenty-six hours since Christopher and Debbie's disappearance, and Nick felt each minute age him. They'd decided against going public with the kidnappings.

Even the FBI had agreed in this instance. They knew who had Chris and Debbie; they just didn't know where, and it was a sure bet they wouldn't be making any public appearances.

So the less the media knew, the better.

When he'd called Wayne Thomas with the news, the man had gone silent then said, “I'm coming over. If we're all in one place, it'll be easier to keep abreast of everything.”

Nick had agreed.

Wayne had arrived and planted himself on the couch, his eagle eye taking in every detail of the FBI operation now in charge of locating Christopher and Debbie. They'd invaded Nick's house shortly after he'd arrived home yesterday. Nick and Carly had discussed asking the man about Debbie's association with a de Lugo thug. She promised to get to that at the right moment. He wondered what she was waiting for.

Carly walked into the den and headed toward him. Wayne looked up from the laptop he'd brought. Carly rubbed her hands together and looked at them. “I just got
word that the blood on the floor of the garage at the safe house is Debbie's.”

Blood drained from Wayne's face, but he just nodded. Nick reached out and gripped his friend's arm. “I'm sorry, Wayne.”

Wayne looked at him, sorrow in his eyes. “It's not your fault, and it wasn't that much blood. Right? Maybe they just hit her to keep her quiet and…” He shrugged and looked away.

Nick looked at Carly, who bit her lip. She'd had trouble looking him in the eye after her meltdown, but he'd refused to let her ignore him. And he thought he saw a new peace in her eyes. At least he hoped so. Once all this was over, he looked forward to discussing it further.

Carly cleared her throat and frowned. Nick raised a brow. “What is it?”

“The blood on the cabinet belongs to Ben.”

“You kind of figured that, didn't you?”

“Yes, that one doesn't surprise me.” She paused. “But we still don't know how they keep staying one step ahead of us. It seems to me we're missing something.”

“Like what?”

She placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head. “That's the problem. I can't figure it out.” Looking at Nick, she asked, “How would Ben McCann have access to secure information like the location of the different safe houses kept by the marshals?”

“He wouldn't. There's no way.”

“Yeah, that's what I would think, but someone did, and someone must have done their homework on the most likely cop to buy off.”

“The most likely cop that had access to us,” Nick said slowly. Wayne watched the action, his eyes bouncing back and forth.

Carly paced over to Mason and asked, “Any more on the background checks?”

He looked at her. “Maria and Grady came up clean, of course.”

Guilt appeared on her face, and Nick wanted to tell her not to worry about it. She was just doing her job, and he appreciated that fact even while he didn't like the danger involved with it.

“I figured they would,” she said. “I was desperate and grasping at straws.”

“How are they doing, by the way?” Nick asked.

Mason gave him a thumbs-up. “On the road to recovery. Maria's already home. Grady's made amazing strides, and is supposed to be released in the next couple of days.”

Carly fidgeted then rolled her eyes. “Um, can we keep this whole background-check thing between us?”

A slight smile curved her partner's lips. “That's what I'd planned on.”

“Okay…so, Ben McCann. Someone had to have access to his records. Bank records, personal stuff, et cetera.”

“That kind of stuff takes a court order,” Nick offered. “They'd have had to get that just like we did.”

She nodded her approval. “True. Unless you get it illegally.”

Nick shuddered. “They knew exactly when we got here, when to plant the package…”

Carly picked up when he trailed off. “They also had to know the layout of the house and know we'd probably send all of you to the safe area, so that's where they planned their strike.”

“Only,” Nick said slowly, the wheels turning, “how did they know I would refuse to go back there? How did they know to send the inhaler, and how did they know they'd be able to grab Christopher?”

“Coincidence,” Mason interjected. “They probably sent the inhaler as a message. It just so happened that you didn't go to the safe area, so they grabbed Christopher and Debbie instead of killing you.”

He blew out a sigh. “Why take Debbie?”

“To keep Christopher quiet,” Carly murmured. “If he's with someone he trusts, he's less likely to cause problems.”

“Or the de Lugos somehow convinced her to help them out.”

 

Carly stared out the window and listened to the men behind her discuss the situation. Her eyes roamed the area, alert for anything out of place. Yet she was also focused on her thoughts. Christopher had been snatched right from under their noses.

She paced to the sofa and sat, then leaned her head back against the cushion to glare at the ceiling. How was this possible? How could this be happening? Should she ask for a replacement like she suggested to Nick and remove herself from the case? He said she needed to see this thing through to the end. Carly wasn't so sure. The end of this case might just bring the end to her sanity.

All of these questions buzzed in her mind, but the one that screamed the loudest was:
Is this your fault?

Was it?

Could she have prevented this?

Of course you could have,
she sneered at herself.
You're a professional, remember? You're supposed to be smarter than the bad guys. But,
she silently argued back,
how can I fight the bad guys when I can't tell them apart from the good ones?

Carly felt the tears clog her throat and forced them away.

God, what do You want from me?
her mind cried out in desperation.
What do You want?

She thought about Nick and his fervent prayers to the God he believed in, the God he trusted. He made it look so easy.

Could she do that? Be like Nick and just trust that God knew best even in this dire situation?

She wanted to with all of her aching, shattered heart. “Please,” she whispered silently. “Show me.”

“Hey, Carly? You in there?” Mason snapped his fingers in front of her eyes, and she bolted from the couch, fists clenched. With a deep breath, she forced herself to relax.

“Sorry, deep thoughts.”

Nick frowned and shot her a concerned look. “Are you all right?”

She didn't bother to answer that. Instead she looked at Mason. “What were you saying?”

“I said we just got word back on the condition of Ben McCann.”

Eagerness filled her. Finally they would learn more. “Well? Is he awake? Can he tell us anything?”

“Afraid not. He died thirty minutes ago. Started bleeding in his brain, had a stroke and died.”

Carly felt the breath
whoosh
from her and fell back onto the couch. A groan slipped out, and she placed her face in her hands. But her mind clicked. She didn't have time to fall apart.

Shoving her emotions aside, she took a restoring breath and said, “Okay. Then we just have to keep looking, keep searching until we find the answer to Christopher and Debbie's whereabouts.”

Something tickled the back of her mind. She just couldn't pull it forward enough to grab it.

It would come to her.

She looked at Mason. “We need the reports back on the safe houses.”

“It's too soon, Carly. They probably haven't even finished processing them.”

He was right. She was going to have to be a little more patient. Still…

“This will be a priority case right now. They'll be moving fast on the evidence they have. Not to mention the fact that the people missing belong to two judges.”

“That's true. Give it a try. Sure can't hurt.”

She picked up her phone, walked into the kitchen and dialed the captain's number. From where she stood, she could see Nick and Wayne sitting on the couch talking. Probably about the de Lugo trial that started tomorrow.

“Captain Sanders.”

“Hi, Captain. Carly Masterson here. I know it's been a short time, but is there anything you or one of your people can tell me about the safe houses we left? Was the gas leak an accident or on purpose?”

“You're in luck. Because the trial is fast approaching and I know you need all the information you can get as fast as you can get it, I had two teams working each of the houses. I just got off the phone with my lead investigator about the gas leak. It looks like a simple accident that could have been deadly if you hadn't recognized the smell.”

That surprised her. “How so?”

“The leak came from the stove. The gas line that leads to the back of the stove had come loose. It had probably worked its way loose over time, and whenever someone was messing with the stove yesterday morning, it pulled enough so the bolt fell off and a large amount of gas was released. Once it hit the air-conditioning duct, it would have traveled fairly quickly to all areas of the house.”

Which explained why Lindsey had come from the bedroom feeling sick.

“How did you know it was a gas leak?” he asked.

“I don't know, sir. It just popped into my head. I don't have a gas stove at home, but that smell, combined with the way I was feeling physically…” She gave a shrug he couldn't see.

“Well, good call. You're lucky.”

Very. “Okay, thanks so much.”

“One other thing.”

“What's that?”

“We found a cell phone tucked up under the lawn mower in the garage.”

“A cell phone? How odd. Who does it belong to?”

“Debbie Thomas.”

Carly frowned. “What? Debbie Thomas? But that's not possible. I took her phone from her at the first safe house.”

“Well, that brings me to this bit of information. There wasn't a phone in the drawer at that safe house. Which leads me to deduce that the cell phone you had in the drawer is now in our possession.”

Chills of foreboding danced across her skin, and goose bumps made an abrupt appearance. “How can that be? I took it from her, pulled the battery out and put it in the drawer.”

“We didn't find the inhaler, either.”

Confused, Carly thought for a moment, then said, “All right. Thanks, Captain. I'm going to try to figure out what all this means. I'll be in touch.”

“Good deal. Stay safe.”

“Right.” Carly hung up, her mind spinning with this latest bit of news.

She still felt like she was missing something.

“Carly?”

At the sound of Nick's voice, she snapped to her attention and found him standing on the opposite side of the bar. She leaned against the granite countertop and studied him as he settled onto a bar stool. She said, “I'm not sure what it all means yet, but they didn't find the phone or the inhaler.”

Nick frowned and leaned forward. “But I know I had the spare one in there. I grabbed the one in the kitchen on the way out and…” He scratched his head, thinking. “Yes, I'm absolutely sure the other one was in the medicine cabinet. I put it there in case Christopher had an attack and I needed it fast. I didn't want to have to go digging around in a bag to find it.”

“And I know where I put the phone.”

“So, did Debbie somehow snatch it before we left?”

Carly sighed and noticed Wayne, Debbie's father, following the conversation. When he saw he had their attention, he rose and joined them in the kitchen. “They found Debbie's phone?”

Carly nodded, and a sick look flashed across the man's face as he looked away for a moment. Then he turned back. “All right. So, what does this mean?”

“We're not sure yet,” Carly said. “But I want to ask you a question.” She figured this was the moment. She hadn't wanted to bring it up before in case it was irrelevant. Now she had to ask.

“About?” Wayne prompted.

“Debbie. What do you know about her association with Rico Martinez?”

Annoyance flashed for a brief moment. Then he shrugged. “She dated him. He's good-looking, wealthy and to all appearances is from one of the most influential families in the area. She didn't care about his associations
until he nearly landed her in jail. It took some doing to get her out of that one, I'll admit.” He narrowed his eyes. “How did you find out about that? I thought I covered it up pretty well.”

Mason spoke up. “You did. I had to do some heavy-duty digging to find it.”

“Why are you checking up on my daughter? Nick? Something you need to tell me?” His brow shot up, and Nick looked flustered.

Carly rushed to his assistance. “Because we couldn't seem to find a hiding place without being discovered almost immediately, we did background checks on everyone associated with this family.”

Wayne shook his head. “Well, I can't say I blame you. But that's the story on Debbie and Martinez. She didn't know what she was getting into when she started seeing him. I knew the behind-the-scene story, of course, and shared it with her.” He gave a humorless laugh. “At first she wouldn't listen to a word I had to say about a de Lugo associate, but once he was arrested for extortion and they tried to make her an accomplice, she realized I was right and dropped him like a hot potato.”

He blew out a sigh. “Look, I'm going crazy just sitting around here waiting. I have some things at the office I need to take care of. Nick has my number. Please call me as soon as you hear anything.”

“Of course.”

She and Nick watched Wayne gather his belongings and head out the door.