The Broken Road (The Broken Series) (36 page)

Habib
closed his eyes as he sought to recall what the man was wearing. “He was tall.
He was wearing dark clothes and a ski mask.”

“Did
he have an accent?” Kadyn asked.

Habib
shook his head. “No. Not that I can recall.”

Kadyn
studied Habib intently. “And the man who held a gun to Kri’s head… the one in
the back of your car?”

Habib
swallowed nervously. “My brother.”

“The
man sleeping in the other room?”

Habib
nodded.

Kadyn’s
eyes met Mason’s. He nudged his head toward the other room.

Mason
disappeared from the doorway.

Kadyn
returned his attention to Habib. Silence spun between them. Finally, Kadyn
spoke. “I understand why you did it, but if she’s harmed in any way, you will
pay. Tell your brother he’s forgiven… for now.”

Habib
looked on in shock as Kadyn turned and strode from the room. Cenia, Roger, and
Mason followed him out the back door.

“Did
you take care of the brother?” Kadyn asked as they approached their vehicles.

Roger
smiled. “Yes. He’ll be incapacitated for some time. It will take them hours to
get all of that duct tape off.”

A
slow smile spread across Kadyn’s face, then abruptly disappeared. It was then
that it struck him. Kri was likely bound and gagged too.

I
woke with the worst hangover
ever
. I groaned miserably. Then I ran my
tongue over my teeth. My mouth was dry and sticky. I tried to remember how I’d
come to be in such sorry shape. My eyes flew open as the fog cleared. I bolted
upright, twisting my shoulder sharply. Pain shot through my shoulder, forcing
another moan from my parched throat. I looked around in shock. My right arm was
handcuffed to a very large bed.

“Well,
it’s about time,” a deeply timbered voice rumbled from across the room.

My
eyes widened with recognition, then narrowed at the man sitting across the
dimly lit room. “You…” My voice cracked as I tried to speak. “You asshole. Have
you completely lost your mind?”

“Maybe,”
he responded thoughtfully, as if he considered it a valid claim.

“I
have to pee.” I was not lying. I really had to go, so bad, in fact, that it was
literally the only thing I could think about at that moment. Then all thoughts
of my physical discomfort disappeared as a flood of memories pressed in on me… my
slashed tires, the car ride with Habib, Abdul, Diwa, the airport, the guns, and
the vial. I suddenly realized that I had a lot more important things to be
worried about than peeing my pants. “How long have I been out?”

“You’ve
been out for nine hours. I’ll take you to the bathroom but don’t try anything.
You do and you will
not
live to regret it.”

I
silently studied him. This was a man who clearly was not firing on all four
cylinders. “Fine,” I gritted out.

He
unfolded himself from the chair and approached the bed. He unlocked the
handcuff that was attached to a thick wooden spindle in the headboard, leaving
the other half of the handcuff attached to my wrist. The bed was a massive hand
peeled log bed... the kind you find all over Montana but not in DC.

I
inhaled deeply. I could smell pine trees and a wood burning stove.

He
slipped the handcuff over his left wrist, snapping it closed.
Nope, not
going anywhere anytime soon.

“Get
up,” he growled.

I
tried to stand as he stepped back, but my legs buckled.

He
caught me with his free hand, then pulled me roughly against the side of his
body, once again twisting my right arm.

I
would have cried out in pain, but I panicked at the feel of his body pressed
against mine. I struggled against him as I attempted to put some distance
between the two of us.

He
tightened his hold, giving me no option but to shuffle alongside him to the
bathroom while firmly pinned to his side. He released me when we got to the
bathroom. “Okay. Go.”

“What?”
I squeaked. “You cannot be serious. I am
not
peeing in front of you.”
What
is it with men? Why do they all seem to think that peeing is a spectator sport?

His
eyes narrowed. “You are if you want to pee,” he responded testily. His voice
left no room for argument.  

My
eyes narrowed with equal disdain. I silently considered how much longer I could
hold out before I actually wet myself. Exasperated, I finally relented. “You
are such an ass! Fine! Turn around.” This was beyond embarrassing. I did not
like peeing in front of
anyone
.

With
a cruel smile, he turned his back to me.

I
tried to pee as quietly as I could…
as if peeing quietly was even possible…
but he was standing right in front of me. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend
he wasn’t there. When I finally finished…
God only knew when I was going to
get another chance to pee again…
I wiggled my jeans back up and fastened
them with one hand. I walked to the sink and washed my hands, irritably
dragging his hand into the water along with mine.

My
eyes landed on a toothbrush. I ran my tongue over my teeth again. My mouth
tasted like dirty socks… or what I imagined dirty socks would taste like, since
I didn’t have any real world experience chewing on them. “Is that your
toothbrush?”

“No,
it’s yours,” he grumbled.

Seriously?
The guy makes me drink poison, then buys me a toothbrush?
I
shook my head. My eyes met his in the mirror. A chill ran down my spine as I
noted the coldness in his eyes. I reached for the toothbrush and quickly brushed
my teeth. It wasn’t easy with my left hand.

He
led me back to the bed and refastened the handcuff to the headboard. His eyes
darkened as he stood towering over me.

I
began to panic as his eyes raked over my body.
God, please don’t let him
touch me.

He
reached for me as his eyes settled on the hair that had fallen over my face.

I
froze. My heart beat once, then also froze. The air between us grew thick with
tension.

His
hand hovered over my face as his eyes flitted to mine. His jaw clenched. We
stayed like that… eyes locked… frozen in place… for what felt like an eternity.
Then he silently turned and walked away.

I
pulled against the handcuff as I scrambled off the bed. “Wait! Where are you
going? What… what are you going to do to me?” I stilled as I waited for a
response.

No
answer.

The
silence was chilling. I fell back against the pillows as I attempted to answer
my own question.
He won’t hurt me,
I reasoned.
If he wanted me dead,
he would have killed me by now.
I turned the thought around in my head.
What
if he regretted his decision to kidnap me? Would he kill me or let me go?
My
pulse ratcheted up a few notches.

My
eyes searched frantically for something… anything
that would help me
escape. I pulled the handcuff hard, testing the strength of the spindle. I
pushed and pulled against the spindle with my free hand. It was solid, too
thick to break. My eyes settled on the only window in the room. I couldn’t see
a thing. I had been out for nine hours, and it was still dark outside?
Where
am I?

*
* * * * *

“Where
is she?” Kadyn asked as he paced across his living room floor. He glanced irritably
at Mason, Roger, and Cenia. Kadyn’s phone vibrated before anyone could respond.
He ripped the phone from his pocket, glanced at the Caller ID, then switched
over to speaker as he answered the phone. “Dan, what do you got?”

“I
tracked down her scumbag ex-husband. He’s at home in bed with some woman who is
definitely not Kri.”

“And
Garcia?” Kadyn asked. He watched Cenia usher Matt into the apartment.

“I’m
still trying to track him down. I’m calling because it looks like we may have
another suspect.”

Kadyn
groaned. “Who?”

“Someone
she used to work with, here in Montana. A guy named Justin Morris. Kimme tells
me he had a thing for Kri. He sexually assaulted her twice, attempted to see
her in DC, then tried to pay for her flight back to Montana when you guys came
back to see the cousin. The guy hasn’t been to work for the past two days. No
one knows where he’s at.”

“Unbelievable,”
Kadyn grumbled.

“No
shit,” Dan agreed.

“I
don’t think it’s Garcia,” Kadyn mused as he resumed pacing across the living
room.

“Why’s
that?”

“The
guy who took her doesn’t have an accent. Isn’t Garcia from Portugal?”

“Yeah.
He’s from Portugal, but he primarily speaks French. How do you know the guy who
has her doesn’t have an accent?”

 “I
don’t. Not for sure. The guy abducted a cab driver’s sister, then held her
hostage until the cab driver delivered Kri in exchange for the sister.
According to the cab driver, the man didn’t have an accent, although he did
claim to be her fiancé.”

“The
guy he turned her over to may not be the one who’s orchestrating all of this,”
Dan speculated.

“True,”
Kadyn agreed.

“Okay.
I’m sticking with my original plan, then. I’ll keep looking for Garcia and Morris.”

Kadyn
eyed Matt as he opened the refrigerator. “Sounds good. The cab driver took Kri
to a small executive airport, so I'm trying to locate the plane and their
flight plan.”

“Aircraft
would be your area of expertise,” Dan mused.

“And
skip tracing is yours. Track down those men, sailor,” Kadyn responded before
ending the call. He turned his attention to Matt, who was helping himself to
leftover pizza. “What did you learn from your friends at the airport?”

Matt
slid the pizza into the microwave. “A Cessna 510 left Leesburg Airport at one
o’clock this morning. The plane was destined for Minneapolis, but I don’t
believe that was their final destination. They were probably just refueling the
aircraft. Phil’s trying to secure the flight plan so he can find out where the plane
went from Minneapolis. No other aircraft departed the Leesburg Airport until
after five a.m. this morning, so we think the Cessna is our plane.”

“A
Cessna 510. That’s a small business jet,” Kadyn noted. He slid into a chair at
the breakfast bar. “Any idea where the aircraft originated from?”

Matt
pulled the pizza from the microwave. He grabbed a piece, then shoved the box
across the counter toward Kadyn. “Yes. The Cessna flew in from Helena, Montana
two nights ago. The plane was parked at the airport until it departed this
morning,” he mumbled around a mouthful of pizza.

Kadyn
grabbed a piece of pizza. “Any idea who owns the plane?”

Matt
nodded. “Some exclusive outfitting business outside of Helena. They fly VIPs in
and out of Montana for big game hunting. Phil’s trying to track down the business
owners so he can determine whether any of their pilots are listed on the flight
plan or if someone else leased the plane.”

Kadyn
texted Dan with the additional information before surveying his friends. “Can
you secure leave, or do you have to report to work today?”

“I
can take leave,” Cenia responded.

“Me,
too,” Roger and Mason replied at the same time.

“My
schedule is flexible,” Matt confirmed.

“Good,”
Kadyn murmured. He glanced at an incoming text from Dan. “Looks like one of the
suspects out of Montana has a pilot’s license.”

Everyone
gathered around Kadyn.

“Who?”
Mason asked.

“The
coworker, Justin Morris,” Kadyn responded. He scrolled through the list of
contacts on his cell phone.

Phil
picked up on the first ring. “Talk to me.”

“Anything
on the Cessna 510?” Kadyn asked.

“Nothing
yet. There are a lot of flights in and out of Minneapolis, and a number of them
are Cessna 510’s,” Phil explained apologetically. “Don’t worry, I’ll find it.”

“Any
idea who the pilot was on the flight out of Leesburg?”

“Not
yet. I’m still waiting for the airport to e-mail me the flight plan. Any name
in particular that we’re looking for?”

“Either
Justin Morris or Michael Garcia,” Kadyn responded.

“Okay.
I’m on it.”

“Thanks,
Phil. I’ll let you know if I learn anything new,” Kadyn replied before ending
the call. He sighed heavily as he turned toward his friends. “I really appreciate
everything you’ve done to help this morning, but you might as well go to work.
This could take a while, and we shouldn’t be burning leave time we may need
later. Why don’t we meet back here tonight after work? I’ll text you if
anything comes up before then.”

Everyone
reluctantly agreed before trickling out of the apartment.

Kadyn
collapsed on the couch. He retraced every step as he tried to identify new
strategies for finding Kri. Exhaustion stole over him as he sat there. He
closed his eyes.
Just a few minutes of sleep. That’s all I need.