“I’ve only met him a few times,” she said, pausing. “Frank. Frank Mangino.”
“Frank,” Mitch whispered. “Gotcha.”
A knock sounded at the door, and a cop stuck his head in. “Sir,” he said to Tanner. “You’ll want to hear this.”
Mitch and Dane exited the room.
“Two bodies just turned up downtown,” the cop said quietly. “One had a wrist tattoo.”
“Red and green devil tattoo with a pink ribbon,” Mitch said, the frustration churning inside of him. Another lead. Dead.
The uniform nodded. “A gunshot wound in the chest and another through the head. The other body was found nearby. Different caliber.”
Tanner turned toward him. “Frank Mangino. Bodies are piling up around here. Someone is not taking any chances of leaving witnesses behind.”
Someone who believed he could get away with murder. Mitch slammed into the conference room. “Mrs. Wentworth. Where are your husband and son?”
Victoria started at his intrusion, then straightened her back. “Thomas decided at the last minute to take the plane on business today. I don’t know where William is.”
“How far would your husband and son go to protect themselves, Mrs. Wentworth?” Mitch asked.
Comprehension dawned on her face. “No, it can’t be. They wouldn’t have.” She sank back into the chair, stunned, her lip trembling. “Please tell me they didn’t kill Eric.”
Mitch nabbed his jacket and looked at her. “If they did, they’ll pay.”
Without pausing, Mitch returned to the bullpen. “I need everything we have on Frank Mangino, and I want any of Thomas or William Wentworth’s flight plans for yesterday, today and tomorrow,” he barked. “ASAP.”
“You sound like a real detective, Mitch,” Dane said. “What are you thinking?”
“That Emily will never quit until she finds her son. That makes her dangerous.” Mitch had a bad feeling. He tore down the hall to the waiting room. Empty. He checked his phone. No messages. She could be searching the databases. He hurried down the hall and flung open another door. Empty. His gut twisted, and he doubled back to the police station’s lobby. “Emily Wentworth? Did you see her?” he demanded of the desk sergeant.
“Sure. She left with some guy maybe ten minutes ago. Fancy suit.”
Mitch’s heart sank. He’d told her she was safe here. He’d been wrong.
Chapter Fourteen
The Wentworths’ large, private hangar loomed tall in the distance. Emily could barely contain her excitement. Her entire body felt supercharged. She grinned at William. “We’re almost there. I can’t believe it. I’m going to see Joshua. Finally.” She squirmed in her seat and leaned forward, staring at the horizon. “You’re sure it’s him, right, William? I don’t know if I can take another disappointment.”
“Almost one hundred percent positive,” William said. “After a year, he’s obviously changed, but this whole nightmare will be over soon.”
“Does Joshua’s adoptive family know he was stolen?” Emily let out a slow breath. “They’ll be devastated.” Her heart ached for the horror they’d all gone through because of the man who’d killed Eric and stole her son. The terrible thought hit her. “What if they were in on the kidnapping, William? Maybe we should wait for Mitch and the police.”
“Don’t worry.” William patted her hand. “I’ve taken care of things.”
He turned down a road, and the front of the thousand-square-foot hangar, with its huge sliding door, appeared in the distance. She could just make out the snow gathered around in dirty piles against the metal siding. Areas of black ice slicked the tarmac. William slowed as they made their approach.
Emily squinted. “What’s that lying in front of the building?”
The hangar grew closer, and the black blob started to take on the recognizable shape of a man. The gray-haired figure struggled to rise, then waved at them.
Recognition ricocheted through her. Emily gasped. “I think it’s your father.”
Thomas Wentworth rolled to his side. His chest was bloody.
“William, he’s hurt! Hurry!”
Her brother-in-law pressed down on the gas. The car lurched forward.
Emily clenched her fists, and her nails bit into her palms. Who could’ve hurt Thomas? Had the adoptive family been involved the whole time? Panic clutched her heart. “What about Joshua? Where is he? I don’t see anyone else.” Frantically, she searched for any other car or movement.
Then she noticed Thomas struggling. He held something in his hand and was pointing it at the speeding car. “Gun!” she yelled.
William wrenched the wheel to the left, just as the front windshield shattered. The car rammed into the side of the hangar and both airbags exploded, turning the world white. Seconds later, everything shuddered to a stop.
Emily shook her head to clear her vision, then released her safety belt and rammed her shoulder against the door until it opened. She had to find cover before Thomas opened fire again. She peeked over the edge of the window. Her father-in-law had fallen back, lying still as death. “He’s not moving. Are you all right, William?”
Her brother-in-law groaned and pushed away from the steering wheel and the deflated airbag. His shoulder oozed blood. “No, dammit, I’ve been shot.”
She reached into the car for his phone. “Give me your cell. I’ll call for help.”
“Leave it alone!” William slammed his fist into Emily’s face. Her head snapped back, and her jaw exploded with pain.
“This is all your fault. You ruined everything. You just kept coming and coming, never giving up. You were supposed to be dead. You were all supposed to be dead.”
William struggled out of the car, getting caught up in the mangled metal of the hangar door and the BMW. He let out a string of curses as Emily scrambled out the door. Only one place to hide. She bolted for the hangar, hoping there would be a phone inside. Her mind whirled in disbelief. William? She couldn’t believe it. Was Joshua even here, or had he lied to get her here and kill her?
“Emily,” a weak voice called out from at least ten feet away.
Thomas. She hesitated and crouched beside the car.
“Save Joshua, Emily. He’s inside the hangar. Save—”
William stalked over to his father and aimed a Glock at Thomas’s head. “Don’t die easily, do you?”
“Why did you do this? Your own brother? Your nephew?” Thomas’s voice was weak and disbelieving.
“Eric called the cops. Someone had to take the fall, Father. They still do, and it won’t be me.”
“No!” Emily screamed.
William pulled the trigger.
She scrambled to her feet and raced to the hangar. Was Joshua really in there?
“Don’t bother running, Emily,” William said. “I have a spot picked out for you. I know exactly where you have to die to make my story stick.”
She wouldn’t let him win. Not after coming this close. She yanked open the metal access door and fell inside next to the Wentworths’ limo. She turned and locked the dead bolt just as William banged against the outside. Curses rained through the metal. Frenetically, she scanned the huge building for Joshua. He had to be here somewhere, but she could only see the plane and the limo and a lot of equipment. Where was her son?
She didn’t have much time. She needed help. She needed Mitch. Surely he’d received her text by now.
Unless William had never sent it.
Oh, Lord, of course he hadn’t. She had to find a way out, until somehow Mitch figured out what had happened. He wouldn’t give up. He’d fight for Joshua. She’d never seen anyone as intuitive and smart as Mitch Bradford. Whatever story William told, Mitch would see through it. He would believe in her. He would uncover the truth.
She just wished she’d told him she loved him. She’d been reluctant and afraid. Now it was too late.
Unless she fought back.
She could do this. Heart pounding, she shoved a heavy metal tool bin against the door and pushed some barrels behind it.
Another shot rang out and pinged near the lock. How long would her barricade keep him out?
A baby howled from inside the limo.
Emily stilled, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. What if…? She raced to the limo, terrified the wonderful, heartbreaking sounds of the baby’s cries would vanish like her morning dreams. She threw open the door. The smell of blood and death gagged her. A man and a woman sat motionless in the front seat, eyes sightless. Each had taken a bullet to the head.
Oh, no. Emily’s knees quivered.
Another howl wailed.
She could breathe again.
Emily peeked into the back and saw a diaper bag, then a car seat with an angry little boy in a snowsuit, waving his chubby arms and legs as he furiously tried to escape.
Beneath his stocking hat, he had brown hair. Like Eric’s. And the same stubborn chin.
His deep blue eyes. Just like hers.
Her entire body shaking, Emily tugged on the back door. Her hands wouldn’t work; her body could barely function. Finally the door opened, and she reached inside. “Joshua?”
The baby stopped crying and stared. Emily’s heart paused with uncertainty as his wary gaze transformed into a smile. The dimples were all his own. They always had been.
“It’s you.” She couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her face.
Another shot rang out, this time at a side door she hadn’t blocked.
The baby screamed in fear. “Don’t worry, Joshua. Mommy will save you.”
Her hands trembling, she shoved aside the heavy diaper bag, then tugged and pressed at the unfamiliar straps and latches of the car seat. “Come on, come on,” she said, frantic now. Just one left. Joshua cried even louder. Why hadn’t she waited for Mitch? He would’ve seen through William.
Another gunshot, and a metal crash sounded from directly behind her. She was out of time. The car seat’s straps finally gave in under her hand. She grasped Joshua and turned around slowly.
“You’re too late, Emily.”
William Wentworth, gun and all, had found his way in.
M
ITCH FLOORED THE
TRUCK
and barreled toward the Wentworths’ hangar. Thank goodness Sierra was a killer hacker. She’d pulled the data from the traffic cams and placed Wentworth’s BMW moving toward their private hangar. The flight plans indicated the Wentworths had taken the plane to Oklahoma and back. Put that together with Frank Mangino’s sister adopting a baby boy a year ago, and everything fit. Except Emily was still in danger. It didn’t take ten minutes to kill someone; it took seconds. Emily couldn’t be dead. He wouldn’t let himself consider the possibility. She was strong; she was clever. She would stay alive. She’d know he would come for her. She had to know.
“You there, Dane?” Mitch said into his earpiece, praying his boss was close behind him.
“Still a few minutes away. SWAT is scrambling.”
Mitch skidded to a stop and jumped out of the truck. He scanned the area, then ran over to what was left of Thomas Wentworth. “I can’t hold off,” he said softly. “I’ve got a BMW buried into the side of the hangar. Thomas Wentworth is dead. Shot twice.” Mitch ran the twenty-five feet to the edge of the building. “The side door to the hangar has been shot open. I’m going in.”
“Be smart,” Dane said. “Come out alive.”
“Get your butt here and make sure she gets out of this. You worry about Emily, Dane. Promise me. I don’t matter,” Mitch said.
“We’re getting you both out,” Dane snapped. “I’m almost there.”
Mitch let out a quick breath.
Focus, man. She needs you. You love her.
And he hadn’t told her. He’d wanted everything perfect. He’d wanted to be whole. He’d wanted to find her son and have SWAT back. He should’ve just said the words. He loved her more than the job he’d thought he couldn’t live without. If he got another chance—
when
he got a second chance—he wouldn’t wait.
Mitch drew his weapon, eased toward the open hangar door and peeked in. His blood went cold.
Emily, standing in front of the open limo door, tears running down her face, rocked a screaming baby in her arms.
William, blood dripping down his arm, held a pistol aimed at Joshua’s head. “Give me the kid or I’ll shoot through him to get to you. You know I’ll do it. I’d prefer him alive, Emily, but I can fabricate a reason why he didn’t make it. Either way, I win. The choice is yours. Do you want your son to live or die?”
Mitch slipped inside the door and into position behind a metal bin and three huge barrels that blocked William’s view. Moving silently, Mitch crouched down and leaned out farther. He focused on Emily, hoping she would glance his way.
As if she could sense him, she turned her head slightly. Their gazes locked, and he recognized the flash of understanding. She shifted her body slightly, drawing William’s attention in the opposite direction. Man, he loved an incredibly brave woman.
Mitch’s earpiece clicked once, and some of his tension eased. Dane had arrived. Emily hugged the baby tighter. “Why are you doing this, William? I don’t understand. You helped me look for Joshua.”
“I thought the boy was dead. What harm could it do to pay a washed-up drunk like Perry to search for clues and keep you busy? But the kid was alive, and that idiot Mangino’s sister adopted him. Too many loose ends tying back to me.”