“You got it.” McCoy patted the gun on his hip.
“Thanks. I know this was short notice.”
“You owe me big time, Shaw.” Eric nodded a promise to collect.
Hearing Eric use his real name sent a flurry of the old pain speeding through Ryan’s veins. Boy, the cosmos was screwing with him today. They needed to find Nicholas. Fast.
“Yeah, you have no idea.” The minute Eric crossed the threshold to the living room, he was sure his friend understood his last statement. An explosion the size of Mt. Rushmore erupted.
“No freaking way! You’ve got to be kidding me! I’m in prison again!” Makayla slammed the bedroom door and the glass panes of the living room windows rattled in their frames. “You’re just like Steven!”
Even through the closed door, her last remark stung. Just like Steven.
Never
. But the truth? Ryan’s beliefs were working overtime, trying to cross that fine line. That line between civilized and animalistic behavior. Pictures, thoughts, the horrible craving for revenge haunted him with every beat of his heart. The more he thought about Nicholas, of what Steven might do to him, the stronger his hatred grew.
“I’ll kill him.” One last plate sat taunting him on the counter near the toaster oven and he couldn’t help it. He snatched it up and threw it to the ground. Shattered pieces splintered and flew across the room in a multitude of directions— just like his emotions.
What else could he do? The local police were on alert, the FBI on their way and Makayla protected for the moment. But he’d never felt so helpless.
Well, that was a damn lie. Memories plagued him of another time when he’d almost gone over the edge. A time when life had not been kind to those he loved. Jennifer, his first wife, and unborn child hadn’t deserved to die like that. He clenched his fists and eased down in the chair, working to force the images away. He couldn’t afford to let the past back in now. There was too much at stake. The lives involved too precious.
The phone rang with a defiant tone and Ryan scowled. His throat tight, the raw emotions bubbling up inside, he wasn’t ready to deal with this new situation.
After the third ring, Michael walked into the room and eyed him suspiciously. The only hint of the young man’s emotional state was revealed by the fading red blotches on his cheeks. Michael was strong like his mother and rarely let others see his true feelings.
“Shouldn’t we answer it?” His statement was directed at Ryan, but his voice floated to the floor with his gaze.
“Yes, son.” Ryan waited one more ring to make certain the phone tap was working properly and then slowly picked up the receiver.
“Hello.”
The silence on the other end told him everything he needed to know.
“Who is this?” Play dumb, that was best right now.
“Myka, is she there?” A low masculine tone reverberated through the line, a hiss resembling that of a snake.
“I’m sorry. No one by that name resides at this address.”
“Mr. Carter, it’s not in your best interest to agitate me.”
Ryan clenched his fists tighter. So this asshole knew his name.
Stay calm
. He had to stay calm.
“All right, Mr. Prichard. We’re grown men. I won’t play games. You tell me where my son is and we’ll negotiate.”
“Negotiate?” Laughter revealed his answer. “I don’t negotiate, Mr. Carter. You will follow my instructions to a tee or never hold your son again.”
Dead silence ticked by.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes. I understand. What is it you want?”
“Myka.”
Just as Ryan thought. It was all about her, always had been. In Steven’s sick mind, she belonged to him. She was his property and he wanted her back.
“I’m waiting for instructions.”
“That’s better. Cooperation is always a good idea.”
Ryan heard Steven shift the phone.
“Have her meet me at the edge of town near Interstate 10. Alone. I’ll return the boy. But she comes with me.” Ryan’s heart flipped in his chest. A trade. One he wasn’t prepared to make. Makayla for his son.
“What time?”
There was a brief moment of commotion on the other end of the phone. Ryan heard another man’s voice in background and strained to listen for other clues. Like a train, traffic or something else to help pinpoint the location. What he heard chilled him to the bone.
“You stupid bitch. You did what?” Steven’s anger radiated over the line in a heavy whisper.
More shuffling, the muffled grunt of a woman as if she’d been hit, and then another voice spoke. “Mr. Prichard will call back with more details.”
“Wait…” The phone went dead before Ryan dragged in his next breath. Something wasn’t right. Something hadn’t gone as planned.
“Oh, God, no.” Ryan’s chest ached beneath the pressure. “Nicholas.”
“What the hell do you mean he’s gone?” Steven’s fury crackled the air, his words choking out from deep in this throat.
The girl he’d found at the local mall looked like a good choice at first. She was young, pretty and dressed up like one of Santa’s elves. What better way to lure a child away from their home. But the minute she’d opened her mouth, warning signs flashed in Steven’s brain. Her high pitched squeak grated on his nerves like a screeching siren.
The minor detail was too important to overlook. He’d wanted someone reliable, with lots of energy. But the luxury of a comprehensive background check like he would have preferred wasn’t possible. He needed a warm body right then and there, and she’d been all too eager to oblige.
Besides, all the twit had to do was bring a five-year-old boy to him. Shoot, he’d even supplied a damn limo for transportation. That meant she had an extra pair of hands if something went south.
“Son-of-a-bitch.” Steven shoved her in front of the muscled goon who’d driven the limo. Her lip was bleeding where he’d hit her, but she had no idea what she was about to endure for her little blunder.
“I’m so sorry. Really, Mr. Prichard. The little stinker said he had to go to the potty. Was holding himself and everything. We only stopped at McDuff’s for five minutes. I checked in on him, honest I did.” She was close to tears, wringing her hands in front of her as she rambled on.
Disgust rolled in Steven’s gut. “Look, bitch. I don’t give a rat’s ass about excuses. You’re going to show me exactly where you lost him. And if we don’t find him…” He paused in mid-sentence, took one step closer, grabbed her by the throat and squeezed. Just before her breathing became nonexistent, he relaxed his grip and said, “No one will find y-o-u.” The letters rolled from his tongue in a slow fierce growl.
He released her slowly, and she fell to the ground in a heap at his feet, gasping for air. Glaring down at her, he contemplated his disposal methods. The minute she’d agreed to help him, she’d sealed her fate. This little slipup only bought her a few more precious minutes of life.
Steven put his hands on his hips and watched her sob. “Do you understand?”
The girl, short on money as well as common sense, nodded and tried to stand. But he kicked her back down.
“Apparently not.” He watched her cough and gag, taking great pleasure in her pain and the fact he caused it. After several minutes, the gratification waned.
“Now you may get up.” Steven held a nine millimeter Berretta directly to her skull. It was his way of emphasizing he meant business as well as guaranteeing full cooperation.
Makayla shivered. Crazy Florida weather. It was at least eighty degrees outside in the middle of December, but she was chilled to the bone.
The warm gold hues of the master bedroom did little to comfort or lift her spirits as the sun’s morning rays filtered through the windows, bathing them in its glow. Sleep snuck up on her sometime late into the night after she’d stormed out of the kitchen with Eric McCoy hot on her tail. But it was anything but restful. Her on-again-off-again dreams tortured her with every tiny detail of the past twelve hours. What
was
perfectly clear now was the fact the phone call had been a distraction. There was no doubt. And she’d fallen for it. Hook, line and blasted sinker.
One question still burned in her gut. How on earth had Steven managed to get into the house? The doors were always locked. It was a rule she never allowed to be broken.
As she pictured the front door, something snapped.
The buzzer
. She distinctly remembered hearing the sound while she was on the phone, but until now the sound never registered. Could it have been the doorbell? They’d been having trouble with it ever sense Nicholas whacked the button with the baseball bat.
“Oh, no. He knew better.” But he might have opened the front door expecting to find Michael or one of his playmates from down the street. She cringed inside at what her young son might have discovered instead.
Oh, dear God
. He was only a child.
The tears threatened to return and it took all she had to keep them back
. No, not, now
. No time for regret or panic to take over. Steven had to be stopped before it was too late. She needed to tell Ryan what she remembered. The surveillance cameras from the security system he’d insisted they put in could have caught something that would give them clues to locate Nicholas.
She tossed the leopard comforter to the floor, planted her feet firmly on the ground and headed for the door, swinging it open with one swift motion. Eric startled at her abruptness. He’d been sitting patiently in a chair, directly across from the door. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear he was actually reading one of the inspirational books she’d long forgotten and used more for decoration than help.
He cleared his throat and politely stood, slipping the book behind him as he let her pass without a word.
She thought about being civil, offering a glowing recommendation on the book, but he’d see right through her and she didn’t need to waste her energy.
The long hallway echoed with each step as she padded barefoot down the tile toward the kitchen and braced herself for Ryan’s reaction. Would he think she’d hid the information from him on purpose? Surely he knew she had nothing to do with Nicholas’ disappearance.
When she first saw her husband, her confidence wavered. The sight took her breath away. He stood like a drill sergeant, his broad shoulders stiff, his fists clenched at his side as he stared down at maps and other documents spread out randomly on top of the kitchen table. His unrecognizable expression gripped and tore at her heart.
“Ry-Ryan, I remembered something.” Her voice sounded small, almost childlike and she wanted to start over. She wanted to be anything but that scared little girl who had been tortured all those years ago by a man who’d said he loved her. But the scars dug deep inside her soul, and she knew she’d never be able to outrun the horrifying memories. She’d learned to live with them, actually used her experiences to help others who’d been through similar situations at the women’s shelter. But now, they were trying to take her down one tiny piece at a time.
Ryan looked up the minute she spoke. “I’m listening.” Short and to the point, he didn’t waste one second on words. His eyes drilled through her, but it was clear he was exhausted. He must have stayed up all night going over every possibility.
“I heard the doorbell.” She watched his expression ease into one of skepticism and she hurried to make her point. “When Steven called, I went to the bathroom for privacy. I’m pretty sure I heard the doorbell.” The statement sounded so unnecessary, so much like babble that she felt certain he’d dismiss it and her as well.
But he didn’t.
Seconds of indecision passed between them. Talking was the one thing they’d always been good at. They didn’t fight. They discussed. Now she was terrified of the conversation looming in their future.
“The security tapes are almost ready to view. Makayla, come. Tell me what you heard.” He extended a hand to her and she took it, reveling in the warmth and strength his gentle squeeze offered. His voice was low, soothing. His entire reaction nothing like she expected. He had every right to blow up at her, to condemn her for not revealing this information earlier. Every precious second counted. But instead, he wrapped his strong arms around her in an embrace so emotional she couldn’t help but melt against his chest. He was hurting too, the pain evident on every tense muscle of his body.
“I’m sorry I didn’t remember earlier.” She swallowed back the sob climbing up her throat wanting to start from the beginning.
“Shh…don’t cry. Tell me what you remember now.” Gosh, she loved this man. Calm and in control even with their son’s life in danger and her being the reason.
“The phone rang and Nicholas answered it. Then he wanted something else to eat, but I told him to wait till I was finished with the call. That’s why he answered the door without my approval. He was angry with me.” She wanted to tell him she was sorry. That she loved him, but the words just got all tangled up with the sob at the back of her throat.
“Try not to blame yourself.” He stroked her hair and she squeezed tighter against his chest, never wanting to let go. He was tough, yet compassionate, authoritative, yet loving. He was everything she needed, and everything Steven had never been.