Authors: Tamara Hart Heiner
D
etective Carl Hamilton marched past the hum of the copy machine, strolling between the two officers flirting by the water fountain, the woman giggling as she held her cup of water in one hand and touched the man’s chest with her other. He let himself into Chief Miller’s office, closing the door behind him to drown out the noise.
Miller glanced up from his phone call and lifted one finger, then turned his eyes back down to the desk calendar, twirling a pen mindlessly.
Carl pressed his lips together. He didn’t like being ‘ordered’ to the boss’s office. Made him feel like a school child again, sent to the principal’s office. Even worse to find the boss too busy to deal with him. He forced his fingers to relax around the Styrofoam cup of coffee, letting his eyes drift around the organized office. A stainless steel cubicle on the desk held paper clips, pens, and post-it notes in neat cubbies. A flower bloomed in a pot on top of the cabinet behind the desk. The file cabinet stood open, making Carl feel a twinge of trepidation.
Miller waved the pen at him to sit down, mustache twitching over his lip. “Yes. I understand. Thank you for your patience. All right. Goodbye.”
Carl still stood by the door. “You asked to see me?”
“Sit.” The chief motioned again.
Exhaling, Carl sat down hard. His coffee sloshed but remained in the cup.
“Do you know why you’re here, Carl?”
“I can guess. You want an update on the Rivera case?”
Miller nodded, pressing the tips of his fingers together and leaning back. “What did you find when you searched the house?”
Carl hated this. Shortly after Rivera’s daughter, Jaci, was kidnapped, the man vanished. Normally Carl could pull a lead out of coworkers or friends, but in this case, they had all vanished with him. “Nothing. Yet. I’ll go back this week.”
“You are one of my best. But I think I’ve overloaded you. You’ve got this case, The Hand, and your other cases to take care of.”
“What are you suggesting? A partner?” Carl wouldn’t mind one.
“Actually, I was thinking of taking you off the case.” Miller put his pen down and entwined his fingers.
Carl blanched. Anything but that. He had built this whole case; he was invested until he solved it. “With all due respect, sir, nobody knows this case like I do.”
Miller nodded. “I know that’s true. But the FBI and Interpol are already involved. What more do you think you have to offer?”
A fair question. Carl mulled it over. “I’m going to find this guy. The police in Texas are sending me the hard drive to the computer system we found at Rivera’s work. As soon as I get some names, contacts, I’ll know where he is.”
And I’ll find out exactly how he’s connected to his daughter’s kidnapping.
“I have some questions for his daughter, too, now that she’s been found.”
“What news on The Hand?”
Carl’s shoulders relaxed. Now this case was hot. “I’ve reviewed the preliminary reports we got from the kidnapped girls. They were brief, and the FBI should have more information soon. I’m flying to Ohio in five days to meet with them. From there I’m flying to Montreal. I know I can find his hideout.” Before The Hand kidnapped the four girls, including Rivera’s daughter, he was not a high priority. The kidnappings and subsequent murder of one of the girls had changed all that.
“The Hand has put a lot of effort into retrieving them. Did the reports give any idea why?”
“Nothing concrete,” Carl admitted, “though I have put a few theories together. First of all, he must know they can identify him. But that’s not enough. Second, his actions seem rather desperate. Killing the girls would have simplified things for him, but instead he planned to sell them, use them for ransom. That, coupled with the high number of thefts in the weeks prior, makes me think he needed money. Third—I’m not sure on this one, but I think the girls are hiding something. Something’s off. I hope to discover what it is when I meet them.”
The chief nodded. “Very good. I’ll leave you on both of them—for now. Carl, if I take this one from you, it’s as a favor. I need you focused on your other cases, not spending too much time on this goose hunt. Got it?”
He left it unsaid that if they didn’t get the federal grant, the hunt would be over for Carl anyway. “Got it.” Recognizing a dismissal, Carl stood. He hurried back to his office, almost tripping over his own feet. Throwing a hand out, he caught the corner of his desk for balance. Several sheets of paper slid off, followed by two hardcover books. He gathered them back up and shoved them into a chair, mind mulling over Gregorio Rivera.
The man’s whole life was a lie, all the way down to his name. Was it coincidence that when Carl got close to the truth, Rivera disappeared, deserting a wife and three children?
He closed his office door and booted up his computer.
Now that the girls had been rescued, finding their kidnapper was high priority for two reasons: to prosecute him and to keep them safe. The man had hunted them across Canada and New York. They weren’t out of danger.
And yet, Carl couldn’t help feeling that Rivera was a key player in all of this. If Carl could just figure out what that key unlocked, everything might fall into place.
Where could Rivera be? He spun his chair away from his computer and flipped through his file folders.
The Windows jingle rang out, and Carl turned back to the PC. He logged into his police account, skimming emails.
The third one caught his eye. He inhaled sharply, feeling his heart jump into his throat.
From: Gregorio Rivera
Subject: STOP TRYING TO FIND ME
Y
ou’re not seriously planning on going for a jog.” Ricky stared at Jaci while she contemplated the treadmill.
She ran her fingers over the console. A three-hour nap had done wonders for her, and now she felt renewed and energized. Her legs yearned to move. “No. Not now. I don’t have the right clothes.” She glanced down at the shoes Agent Reynolds had bought her in New York. “But I could use a good sweat.”
“I’m no athlete, Jace, but I think you might be a bit short on fuel.”
“You must not have noticed all the calories I just consumed.” She walked past him and headed up the stairs.
“Where are you going?”
“To see if anyone has any workout pants.”
Banks showed Jaci a second office on the main floor, one that had closets full of random clothing and all sorts of sizes. Together they sifted through until Jaci found an adequate tank top and stretchy pants.
“Now don’t overdo it,” he warned, handing her the items. “Your medical report says you are severely underweight.”
“I’ll be careful,” she promised. The mere thought of a good run made her feel lighter. It was the best way she could think of to purge her worries. She hurried back downstairs to change.
Sara and Amanda were in the room. Sara lay on Jaci’s bed, her blond hair spread across the pillow while she slept.
“Gosh, I’d give anything for a phone,” Amanda sighed. She sat in a plastic chair with her feet propped up on her bed, flipping through a magazine. “I mean, it’s not like I really care what’s going on with these celebrities. I just want to talk to some real people.”
“I hear ya,” Jaci replied, changing into the workout clothes.
Amanda’s green eyes widened. “Are you actually going to exercise? No way. You’re crazy.”
“Guys like athletic girls.” Jaci couldn’t help throwing the jibe at her.
Amanda shrugged, turning her attention back to the magazine. “Says who? You want to impress a guy, put on a short skirt.” She lifted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Or does Ricky like athletic girls?”
Jaci’s face burned. “I have no idea what Ricky likes or doesn’t like.”
And I don’t care
, she wanted to add. But that was a lie, and she and Amanda both knew it.
“Fine. Knock yourself out. But not really.”
Jaci pulled her hair into a high ponytail. “Amanda.”
“Hmm?” She seemed absorbed in her magazine.
“Do you still have the necklace? You know.” Jaci lowered her voice. “The one.” The one Amanda had found in the back of the kidnapper’s van. The one that the kidnapper desperately wanted back.
“Why?” A note of caution crept into Amanda’s voice. “Did someone ask about it?”
“I’m just curious. I never saw you get rid of it.”
“I still have it.”
“Where do you hide it?”
Amanda stood up and lifted her shirt. After months of starvation, her stomach was concave. The thick pearl and diamond necklace hugged her waist. “It broke once.” Amanda turned it around to show a piece of red yarn tied between the two ends. “Probably not the smartest thing to do, sleep on a necklace.”
“Where did you get the string?”
“I found it in a drawer in the kitchen.”
“What about before then? What did you do with it when it broke?”
Amanda smiled mischievously. “Kept it in my bra.”
Jaci laughed. “Clever.”
Amanda shrugged. “Nobody ever goes there. So it was safe.”
Jaci laughed again, though she had seen Amanda and Ricky kissing once, and she’d wondered how involved their relationship became. “Are you going to give it to the FBI?”
“Should I?”
“Probably.”
“It won’t get him off our trail. He wants it back.”
Jaci knew Amanda was right. “We should still get rid of it. Well, whatever you want. I’ll be in the dojo.”
“See ya.”
There was nobody in the fitness room, which suited Jaci. She didn’t want an audience for what was certain to be a short-lived and pathetic run. She was an endurance runner, specializing in cross-country, and she was out of shape. She stepped onto the treadmill and started it up.
Five minutes later she propped her feet up on the sides, resting her head on the console and gasping for breath. The black mat sped away beneath her, and drops of sweat dotted it as it went by.
Her eyes stung, and she dug a fist into them. How could she be the same as before? She couldn’t even run anymore. Everything had changed. She’d lost her father and her best friend. Pain stabbed at her heart at the memory of Callie, of her brutal murder. Jaci began to cry, letting the tears mingle with her sweat. Her shoulders shook and she turned the machine off, gripping the sides for support.
The floorboards creaked, and she glanced up. “Ricky.” Great. He saw her crying again.
“You found workout clothes. Looky what I found.” He handed her a bottle of Gatorade.
She tried a smile and took it from him. “Thanks. Looks like I’m done for now, anyway. I’m beat.” She sat down on the side of the treadmill and gulped down the Gatorade, hoping he couldn’t tell she’d been crying.
“Do you feel better?”
The question brought up a surge of emotion. Jaci shook her head. “No,” she whispered, staring at the wood floor. “Maybe I never will again.”
He sat down next to her. “Do you remember when we were stranded on the other side of that river?”
How could she forget? They had spent many nights in the Adirondack Park before being rescued. One night there had been a huge thunderstorm that separated her and Ricky from the others. That was when she first realized that she might have feelings for him. She rested her cheek on her forearm. “Of course.”
He leaned back on the palms of his hands and squinted at the wall in front of them. “One time you talked about life and about how much it sucks.”
She smiled. “I don’t think that’s how I put it.”
“Yeah, probably not. But you said you didn’t know how to be happy anymore because you’d seen too much bad stuff. Right?”
She nodded, remembering. “Right.”
He reached over and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “What did I say?”
“You said bad stuff happens to everyone. But life goes on.”
“Yeah.” He studied her. “This is life going on, Jaci. Let go of the past. It’s behind us now.”
She swallowed, entranced by his gaze. “I don’t know how.”
“There you are!” Amanda walked into the fitness room, smiling cheerfully. She sat next to Jaci. “So, how did the jog go?”
“Not so good.” She wondered at Amanda’s timing. Had she intentionally walked in on them to keep them from being alone? “I’m going to shower.”
Amanda snapped her fingers. “Oh yeah, Agent Banks came by. He wants to meet with all of us at ten o’clock. Before bed.”
“Fine.” Jaci nodded. “I’ll make sure I’m there.” She walked out of the room without a second glance.
At ten o’clock the five teens gathered in the game room downstairs. Jaci rubbed her arms, cold in spite of the thick gray sweats she wore. Sara sat on the arm of the couch, her chin in her hand.
The agents hadn’t arrived yet. Ricky glanced around the group, clasped his hands, and said, “Welcome to group orientation. From here on out, you’ll refer to me as ‘your royal highness.’ At mealtime, everyone will wait to start eating until I’ve tasted all of the food. To make sure no one tries to poison us, of course.”
Amanda laughed.
“You’re insanely funny,” Neal said, laying down on the couch and draping his legs over the arm.
“Collins!” Ricky yelped. “Get your stinking feet off the couch!”
“Glad to see you didn’t wait for us,” Agent Banks said, stepping down the stairs into the game room. He appeared more relaxed than he had earlier that day. Magrew joined him, folding her arms across her chest.
Neal sat up, and Banks continued. “Tomorrow begins your first official day in the safe house. There are a few rules you should know about. Don’t open any windows or doors. Don’t go outside. Don’t use the phones and don’t try to contact anyone. If you feel like you need to, tell us and we’ll do it for you, if necessary. There are alarms on everything, but we don’t want to police you. Any questions?”
“No, sir,” Neal said.
“Tomorrow we do have to ask a few questions. We have the testimonies you gave Agent Reynolds, but we need a little more information. Also, another agent will arrive to speak with you. She’s kind of a—a guidance counselor.”
“Guidance counselor,” Ricky snorted. “I’ve seen my fair share of those.”
“She’s here to help,” Magrew reprimanded, arching an eyebrow. “You’ll treat her with respect.” She looked around at each of them, and Jaci knew how they must appear to her: starved, emotionally damaged kids.
“We’ll also be doing some self-defense training with you,” Banks said.
“Why?” Amanda asked. “Aren’t we safe?”
Banks met her eyes. “We’re not taking any chances. Breakfast is at seven,” he continued. “But anything you find in the kitchen, you can eat.”
“How late can we stay up?” Amanda asked again.
“As late as you wish.” He waited another moment and then turned around. “Good night.”