Race Against Time (36 page)

Sheesh. Girl, I love you to death, but you are a fruit loop.

I was worried. Frantic. Where had she gone?

The radio whistled and crackled.

“Anything, Jenna?” Cole’s voice came over loud and clear. Well, clear for a radio.

“Not yet. But we’ll keep looking.”

I shook my head and turned back to the window. Where could she be?

“Just be careful, hon.”

“Will do.” Mom turned the plane in another direction.

I scanned the ground, hoping and praying that by some miracle God would tell us where she was. And that she wasn’t in danger.

“Jenna, Cole?” Sean’s voice came over the radio.

I leaned in closer.

“I’ve found Zoya.”

I jerked upright. Mom smiled.

Tears slid out from my eyelids and rolled down my cheeks.
Wow, that was a fast reply! Thank You, God!
“You tell her that when we get back to the house she is going to get the lecture of her life!”

Mom smiled and grabbed the radio with one hand. “Where did you find her? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. We’re on our way back to the house right now.”

“Gotcha.” Mom smiled again and turned to me. “Praise God.”

I smiled in return.
You can say that again.

We turned back in the direction of the house.

I let out a sigh.
Thanks again, God.
I couldn’t wait to get there.

And wring Zoya’s neck.

Almost an hour later, I hopped out of the plane and ran toward the house. Mom followed not far behind.

Cole must have seen us coming. He met us halfway.

“Zoya?”

When Cole didn’t smile, I knew something was wrong.

God, please let her be okay!
“What is it?” I folded my hands and held them to my chest. She better not have run off again.

Cole hugged us. Then sighed and rubbed his temple. “Sean and Zoya haven’t gotten back yet.” He glanced to Mom, then back to me. “And Anesia’s gone.”

Mom gasped. “What?”

“We can’t raise her on the radios.”

My jaw dropped. “You’ve
got
to be joking.”

Cole shook his head. “I’m sorry, Einstein. She left hours ago. Sometime this morning. Nobody’s heard from her since.”

Great. Now I had two necks to wring. And at this point I’d never let go of either one.
Ever
.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

SLIM

February 3

5:32 p.m.

“I’m really not a bad guy.” He smiled at his former boss.

She didn’t look like she believed him.

“Oh,
really
? Then why do you have a gun pointed at me?”

Anesia was a strong lady. He admired her for that. Still, he couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling flowing through him. The feeling that grew every time he looked into her fear-filled eyes.

Power.

“Because you have something that we want. And I don’t get paid unless I deliver it.”

“AMI?”

So the boss lady knew more than he’d thought. “Bingo. I knew you were smart.” Just not smart enough to beat him.

She looked down at her bound hands. “How did you get mixed up in this? You’re such a good kid, Derek . . . you have such potential. I . . . I thought you were a Christian.”

“That’s the whole point, Anesia.” He wielded the gun, enjoying the feeling of it in his hands. Swung it closer to her face, then to the dogs. “I do have potential, and no offense, but working for you was a dead end.” He anchored the dogs, told them to lie down, and crouched down beside them, petting each one. “Don’t get me wrong, the job was great. Love your dogs. But I need . . . more.”

She gazed at him. Almost motherly. Sympathetic. “Why?”

He chuckled. She wasn’t that stupid. “Because money and power rule the world.”

“And what does your mother have to say about all this?”

“Leave Ma out of this!” He jumped to his feet.

“But I thought you said she was your best friend?”

“Shut up, Anesia!” He stood in front of her. Inches from her face. His stocky body shook with the anger that seeped through him.

She sank to her knees and nodded.

His pocket vibrated. Finally. He answered his phone. “I’ve got her.”

“Good. I’ll arrange for the call and the drop-off.” The powerful voice was syrupy sweet. That grated on his nerves. Like the guy had no respect for him.

“When do I get my money?”

“It’s being transferred right now as we speak. You’ll need to get her to the drop-off point.”

“Nuh-uh. No way. You said you had someone to take the fall when they ambushed. I’m not goin’ down with this.”

“You’re right, Slim. I have someone, but you have to get her there.”

Heat crept up his neck. “You better not be double-crossing me. You forget that you still need to know how to remove the encryption on the chips. And I’m the only one who can do that.”

“Don’t worry, Slim. We’ll take care of you. Check your phone, if you can. You’ll see the money’s there. Now just get her to the location.”

Derek checked his messages on his iPhone. Sure enough, a text came through from his bank, showing the money was there. He put the phone back up to his ear. “All right. I’ll do it.”

“Good. Nice working with you, Slim.”

The phone call disconnected.

Soon it would all be over. He had his money. Just needed to finish this last part of the job and head out of the country. He smiled. Hadn’t gone so bad after all.

“Derek?”

She just wouldn’t be quiet. “What do you want?”

“Are you just going to throw your faith away?” A couple of tears perched on the edge of her lashes. As if she’d cry over him. Yeah, right. She was worried about her own hide. Not his.

“Anybody can fake it, Anesia. In fact, I knew a pastor once who did a great job fooling everyone. He’s in prison now.”

“But you know the truth, Derek. You know it. We’ve talked about it.”

“So what? What has God ever gotten me? That pastor yearned for power and money too. What’s wrong with me wanting some of that? But I’m not gonna steal money from the church, or control everyone and everything around me. And I’m not gonna be a fake and say God’s behind me. I’m gonna do things my way. And
I
won’t end up in prison.”

“Derek, the love of money is the root of all evil. I’m sorry you had to know a pastor that did that, but you need to remember we’re all sinners—”

“Don’t quote Scripture to me, Anesia. And don’t try to defend that man. I don’t care. Yeah, I know what the Bible says. But I’ve made my choice. I’m doing things my way. So nobody else can trample on me the rest of my life.” His stomach churned. Acid burned up his throat. Enough of this stupid conversation. He grabbed her by the arm. “Get up. It’s time you earned
your
keep.”

COLE

10:42 p.m.

Cole paced the length of Anesia’s house. Foyer to office to kitchen to living room. And back again. Where were they? They should be back by now.

The two officers in the living room tapped away on their computers.

Jenna and Andie were out taking care of the dogs in the kennel.

He hated waiting.

Hated it. More than anythin—

Yelling reached his ears from outside. Cole ran out the door.

“Cole!” Zoya waved her arm in the air as she jumped off the sled.

Sean anchored the two sleds while Zoya ran up to the porch.

Andie and Jenna came running from the kennel.

“Zoya!” Andie squealed.

“Thank God, you’re okay!” Jenna grabbed Zoya up in her arms.

Sean turned to Cole. “Are the police still here?”

“Yes.”

“Good. There’s a lot we need to catch them up on.” Sean glanced around. His brow furrowed. “Where’s Anesia?”

Zoya disentangled herself from the hugs of Jenna and Andie. “Yeah, where’s Mom?”

Cole inhaled the bitter cold air. “Let’s go inside.” He turned to the door.

Zoya grabbed his arm. “Cole, where’s Mom?”

He looked from Jenna’s sad face, to Zoya’s, then Sean’s. “She’s not here. We’re not sure where she is.”

Cole looked at Sean as Sergeant Roberts scribbled on his note pad.

“And you have no idea where the shooters went?”

Sean shook his head. “No. But Zoya recognized the second shooter as her Uncle. Could he have been protecting Zoya?”

Cole stood. “It doesn’t add up.” He turned to the officer. “So far, the only link is AMI. So where is Anesia?” The stubborn woman no doubt went out to look for Zoya. Even though she was told to stay put.

Sean leaned forward. “Well, we know she took a sled and a team of dogs out. Just like her to be so stubborn.”

Well, at least Sean knew what he was getting into. Smart man.

The landline rang.

Jenna jumped up and grabbed the cordless. “Hello?” She clutched her throat. “What do you want?” Her eyes widened.

Cole yanked the phone from her. “Who is this?”

“We have Anesia. Go to the North Pole monument in the park. Directions and coordinates will be there by midnight. Then bring all the chips you retrieved from the dogs to the drop-off and we’ll trade her. Four a.m. Tomorrow. Otherwise, she dies.”

Cole waited for something more, hoping, praying for some sound to give him an idea where they were, but the caller hung up. He pulled the phone from his ear as an automated voice came over the line:
“If you’d like to make a call—”

He set the phone back in its cradle.

Everyone in the room stared at him. “Anesia’s been kidnapped. They want to trade her for the chips.”

RICK

February 4

3:28 a.m.

The boss knew.

That’s why he called and told him to handle the drop-off. Because the man knew he’d be killed or taken to jail when the FBI ambushed. Knew that Rick would have to follow through. Because that was the code.

But Rick wasn’t an amateur. The business had held him in a choke hold for too many years. He’d been second in command for a long time. All those wasted years. All that wasted time.

Time was up.

He spotted the kid without too much trouble. The FBI had been set up for hours at the drop-off location. As soon as Rick waltzed in with Anesia, they’d take him. While the others stole the real chips containing the program.

His chest squeezed. Pain radiated toward his shoulder. Rubbing the spot, he attempted a slow breath. Then popped another pill into his mouth.

Leaving the kid and Anesia, he headed back to the drop-off location. His Jeep sat off the road. He pulled out his flashlight and aimed it toward his windshield. Flicking the switch several times, he signaled the man inside. At least, he hoped the guy was still inside.

The beam shut off as he clicked the button and put it back into his pocket.

A shaggy man exited his Jeep, manila envelope in hand. Now if only the ten one-hundred dollar bills he’d given him were incentive enough for the guy to do the job.

Rick walked back toward where the kid held Anesia. He checked his watch. Pulled the pistol out of his pocket.

One step at a time.

He had to finish it.

3:38 a.m.

Slim saw him approaching. A smile split the young guy’s face. “Glad you could make it. I’m outta here.”

Before the kid made it five yards, Rick lifted the gun, aimed, and pulled the trigger. A clean shot to the back of the head.