Final Deposit (16 page)

“But it can be cleaned?”

“Of course.” Kyle nodded. “Which is exactly what they'll tell your father. There'll be another man there, wearing rubber gloves and perhaps a doctor's mask, who will pour a solution into a dish and then drop the bills in to clean them.”

“And does it work?”

“When he pulls them out, they look as if they've just been printed at a U.S. mint. Clean and green.”

“So what's the catch?”

“They run out of cleaning solution.”

“Which is expensive?”

“Very.”

She felt as if she might throw up. “How much?”

“Two hundred, maybe three hundred thousand dollars.”

There was no question any longer about what she had to do. She jumped up. “I'm going to London.”

“Lindsey, wait. There's nothing you can do. Going to London will only put your own life in danger. These men are ruthless, and they know exactly what they are doing.”

There was a catch in his voice. His eyes shifted to the ground. Lindsey froze. There was something he wasn't telling her.

“What is it, Kyle? There's more?”

“There is.” He stopped. “There's often another stage to the scam.”

She took in a deep breath. “Go on.”

“Your father might not have any money left, but the scammers have one more trick up their sleeve.” He looked her straight in the eye and reached for her hand. “They hold him for ransom.”

L
indsey started shoving her things back inside her purse. “I'm going to London.”

“Wait.” Kyle gripped her shoulders, but she jerked away. “I'm serious, Lindsey. You can't reason with these people. They're criminals, and they won't stop until they get what they want.”

“My father doesn't have anything left to give them.” Her shoulders slumped. “How can they demand something that's not there?”

“They go after the family's money. Stripping a person of everything doesn't faze them.” His jaw tightened. “Neither does murder.”

“Murder? Don't tell me that, Kyle.”

“Trust me. I'd rather be telling you anything else at this moment.”

How had this gone from answering a simple e-mail request—fraudulent as it was—to a possible ransom, or…or murder? She pressed her purse against her stomach as nausea took over again.

He gently pulled her onto the couch beside him. “They know your father is in a vulnerable state of mind, and they won't think twice about taking advantage of him.”

His words only reinforced her resolve. “Which is exactly why I'm taking the next flight to London. We have his hotel information. It won't be hard to find him.”

Unless the scam had already turned far more deadly.

No. She fought the nausea. Kyle had no proof that her father was being held for ransom. For all they knew, his original scenario was correct. They'd show her father the suitcase with the dirty money, and he'd convince them that he didn't have another dime to his name. And that would be the end of Abraham Omah. It had to be. They'd already drained her father of everything he had. There was nothing left for them to take.

Except his life.

She shuddered, knowing Omah wasn't the only threat to her father's life.

“What if he has another stroke?” she asked, playing with the heart-shaped locket on her necklace. “You've seen what stress does to him. If he has another stroke, he has three hours to get to a hospital to prevent any permanent disabilities, according to his doctor. And do you think some crazed con man is going to take him to a hospital?”

He shook his head. “Lindsey, you're jumping to conclusions.”

“Jumping to conclusions?” Her voice cracked as it rose in volume. “Any minute now I could receive a phone call demanding money if I ever want to see my father again. This situation is so out of control that anything could happen!”

“I was just trying to give it to you straight, Lindsey. I'm sorry.”

She strode toward the window overlooking the backyard. Anger she'd allowed to simmer began to boil. She clenched her fists against her sides. Tears welled in her eyes. Light from the porch lit up her father's begonias and hibiscus that had wilted in the afternoon heat. How many evenings had she sat on the back porch drinking iced tea and reading a book while her father tended to his flowers? Would he ever get the chance to work in his garden again?

No matter how hard she tried, she still couldn't wrap her mind around all this. Facing a possible ransom was completely daunting. What kind of person did something like this to another human being?

Lindsey spun back around and caught Kyle's expression. None of this was his fault. And he certainly didn't deserve to be yelled at. Especially since he understood exactly how she felt.

“I'm sorry.” She sat back down beside him. “I know I need to be aware of what I'm up against.”

He reached and touched her cheek. “I just wish I could fix all this for you, but I can't.”

“You've done way more than your share.” She caught his hand and pressed it against her face for a moment. “But I have to go. I've got to find my father.”

“The next available flight won't be until morning. We can book seats online right now if you want.”

Seats. He was coming with her.

She smiled and he pulled her into his arms. She melted against his chest, his heartbeat steady against her ear.

Yeah, she'd fallen for him all right. Hook, line and sinker.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“You're welcome.”

She looked into his eyes, wishing she could tell him how she felt. But she'd have to leave that for another day, when her world didn't feel as if it was about to fall off its axis.

He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “The best thing you can do for your father right now is get a good night's sleep—”

“I can't,” she protested.

“Arriving in London exhausted won't help your father. We can arrange for your dad's neighbor to take care of Sammy, then we'll stop by your apartment for your passport and whatever else you need. After that, we'll go to my sister's. I'll sleep on the couch and we can leave early in the morning.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“I'm sure I'm not letting you go alone.”

 

An hour and a half later, Kyle parked in his sister's driveway. The place was dark except for the outside lights and a bluish glow radiating from the television. Kerrie had told him not to worry about what time they got in—she understood exactly what Lindsey was going through.

He shut off the engine, unlocked the car and grabbed Lindsey's suitcase from the backseat, hoping he'd remembered everything. Despite the late booking, he'd managed to secure two seats on a flight out of Dallas at 6:00 a.m. with a connection in Chicago. They would arrive in London at six-thirty Saturday morning. A whole eighteen hours behind her father.

He followed Lindsey up the walk. She'd said little on the drive over—he knew it was killing her that the earliest flight was still six hours away.

The truth was, no matter how much Kyle wanted to help—no matter how much experience he had in dealing with fraud cases—there were limits to what he could do in many situations.

He was afraid this was one of those situations.

God, I need a miracle.

His sister met them at the door, a book in one hand, the remote in the other. She was the only person he knew who could read with the television on.

“I'm sorry it's so late,” Kyle said, dropping their bags in the hallway.

“I told you not to worry.” Kerrie shoved a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “Though if you ever move back to Dallas, I might make you a spare key.”

He glanced at Lindsey before she turned away from him. “Now,
that's
an interesting idea.”

Kerrie shut off the television, dropping the remote on the couch. “Do you have everything you need?” she asked, eyeing his compact bag.

“I think so.” After ten years of international travel, one thing he had learned to do was pack a carry-on filled with the basics. Traveling light simplified the stress of airport travel.

“I'm fine.” Lindsey's normally perky smile didn't reach her eyes.

Kerrie yawned. “I won't promise to be up when the two of you leave, but there's yogurt and fruit in the fridge, and I've set the coffeemaker for four.”

A whole four hours to sleep. And he wasn't done working yet.

“You're an angel.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Good night, sis.”

“Thanks, Kerrie,” Lindsey added.

She started down the hall with her book tucked under her arm. Lindsey started after her to the guest room, carrying her bag.

“Lindsey?”

“Yeah?” She turned to face him.

Her eyes were red from crying, but the fear had vanished. He looked at her for a moment, wondering if he should have tried harder to talk her out of going. The problem was, if he'd known this much about Michael's situation, nothing would have stopped him from jumping on a plane. He understood exactly why she was going.

But if anything happened to her father…or to Lindsey…

“It's going to be all right.”

“You can't promise me that.”

“No, but I can promise that I'll do everything in my power to make sure your father comes out of this okay. I'm not losing anyone else to these guys.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded.

“And when this is over…” There were so many things he wanted to say. So many things he wanted to fix. If determination counted for anything, he'd have Abraham Omah in a jail cell by tomorrow night. “We'll find your father.”

“I know.” She blinked back tears, exhaustion written on her face.

Why was he being such a coward? It wasn't a great time to tell her, but it was now or never. Do it, he commanded himself.

“What I really wanted to say was that, when this is over, I'd like to find a way to keep seeing you.”

“I…I'd like that.”

The house was quiet. He grasped her hands and heard his heart. For a moment, everything seemed to slip away. Lindsey had awakened something real inside him and he wasn't going to let her go again. No matter what the future held.

He leaned forward until he could feel her breath on his face. She smiled as he moved in—

“Uncle Kyle?”

His attention snapped toward the hallway. The nightlight revealed Caileigh, standing on the threshold of the living room, her hair messy from sleep, wearing pink pajamas with fairies dancing on the front.

He squeezed Lindsey's hands before letting go. The moment was gone. For now.

He knelt down and Caileigh ran into his arms. “Hey, sugar. I missed you today.”

She gave him a hug, then stood back, arms folded across her chest. “Are you going to marry Miss Lindsey?”

Kyle stood up. “Miss Lindsey and I have been friends for a very long time, and right now I'm helping her find her father,” he stammered.

The little girl quirked a brow, looking far too grown up for six. “You didn't answer my question, Uncle Kyle.”

Lindsey cleared her throat and smiled. “Would you mind if I tucked you in? I never had a little sister to read good-night stories to.”

Caileigh's attention shifted. “You'll read me a story? Even though I'm not supposed to be out of bed?”

The promise of a story was the perfect distraction. Caileigh reached up and took Lindsey's hand. “Will you read ‘Five Flying Fairies'? It's my favorite.”

“Then ‘Five Flying Fairies' it is.”

Kyle resisted the urge to kiss Lindsey in front of his niece. “Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning,” he said, winking at her.

He watched Lindsey walk down the hall holding his niece's hand.

If she's the one, Lord, help me work out the details. And help us find her father before it's too late.

He glanced at his watch.

It was early in London, but not too early to make a few calls and ask for a few favors.

 

Lindsey picked at the piece of grilled chicken with her plastic fork and frowned. After one layover and another flight, her stomach churned as if she'd just gotten off a roller-coaster ride. Eating was the last thing she wanted to do.

It was already midnight in London, which meant her father had landed twelve hours ago.

Do not lose heart.

She squirmed at the reminder, realizing she'd done exactly that. The helplessness of being half a world away was driving her crazy. Wishing the plane would suddenly accelerate into warp speed didn't help.

Don't lose heart.

“Okay, God. I get it.”

“Get what?” Kyle looked up from his book. Apparently the past twenty-four hours had done nothing to his appetite. He'd already wiped out the chicken, salad, roll and slice of cake.

“Sorry. I have a bad habit of mumbling to myself.”

“Ever get any good feedback, or maybe some good advice?”

“Very funny.” She dropped the fork onto the tray and crossed her arms—there was no use even trying to eat. “You know, I've really tried to do what we talked about in church on Sunday. To keep my eyes focused on what is unseen. To remember that this world is temporary and along with it, all our troubles. I thought as long as my father was all right, it didn't matter that he'd lost his life savings. But everything is different now.”

The flight attendant stopped beside their seats and took their trays. Kyle popped open his soda.

“One thing I learned from Michael's death is that I couldn't put conditions on God's promises.”

She snapped her tray table back into place. “Meaning?”

“Michael always struggled emotionally, but I remember thinking that as long as nothing devastating ever happened to him, he'd be okay. Then Michael met Anya and everything fell apart. After he died, I almost walked away from God. I was so angry over what I'd lost.”