“Any hope of getting Dylan’s help on this one?”
Something odd flickered in McCall’s expression. Most LCR ops were done on a need-to-know basis. However, it had been months since she’d seen Dylan Savage. She’d worked with him on a couple of rescues before she’d started with LCR, but none since. It was almost like he’d gone into hiding.
“He’s working a case that’s taking most of his time these days.”
She nodded, knowing McCall would reveal nothing else. Changing the subject to something she’d meant to ask him this morning, she said, “How’s Samara feeling?”
“She’s doing great. Morning sickness is over, thank God.” A full-fledged grin brightened his face. “Now she’s driving me crazy with names. Since neither one of us wants to know the sex of the baby, she’s got double the names she can’t decide on. And since Shea and Ethan’s baby girl was born, Shea’s giving her suggestions, too.”
She laughed softly at the slightly bemused expression on her boss’s face. The tough-as-bullets Noah McCall loved his wife and son to distraction, and it was obvious he was thrilled about the new addition to the family. One of the many reasons she had wanted to work for Last Chance Recue was the humanity she’d seen in McCall.
“Any last-minute suggestions on finding these young women?”
“Trust your gut. I followed the cases when each of the girls disappeared. Based upon the number of young women who go missing each year, I agree with the FBI’s assessment that these particular cases have few similarities.”
“Then why are we treating this case as if they are related?”
“Finding missing persons is our job. Even if they aren’t related, if, in our investigation, we can find just one, we’ve accomplished a lot.”
“But if we find them all …”
McCall’s eyes gleamed. “Then we’ve accomplished a miracle.”
Seth stepped onto the Gulfstream G650 and took a moment to gaze around at the surprising luxury of LCR’s jet. Ten chairs plus a couple of narrow sofas, all covered in cream-colored leather, were scattered throughout the cabin. A small table against one wall held coffee and pastries; another table in the corner held a large-screen TV.
He turned to see Aidan Thorne coming down the aisle toward him. Carrying a cup of coffee in one hand and a doughnut in the other, Thorne flashed a grin. “Nice ride, huh?”
“Very.”
Downing half the doughnut with one bite, Aidan shrugged. “LCR has some wealthy benefactors. This particular jet used to belong to a prince in the Middle East. Last year we rescued two of his children. This was his thank-you gift.”
Seth had done his research on LCR. Not only was their organization’s rescue success phenomenal; cases were never turned down because of an individual’s inability to pay. In his opinion, whatever they received, money, gifts, or special favors, they deserved.
After more than a week of dead ends in his own investigation of Kelli’s disappearance, he’d realized he would have to go for outside help. He had the experience to find her, but not the resources he knew it’d take. After a couple of days of researching rescue organizations, Last Chance Rescue had been his first choice.
Seth handed his bags to a smiling flight attendant and then helped himself to a cup of coffee. Taking a seat across from Aidan Thorne, he eyed the seemingly laid-back LCR operative. Yesterday, he’d observed a warm camaraderie between Thorne and Honor. Were they something more than co-workers or friends? A couple of times they’d finished each other’s sentences, as if they had some kind of connection or special bond. Was he not only going to have to work with Honor but also be subjected to seeing her with a lover? Another degree of hell he hadn’t expected.
A sound to his right brought his head around. Jared Livingston came through the door like a dark, ominous cloud. Wordlessly, he handed the flight attendant his bag, grabbed a cup of coffee from the table, and then sat down several seats away. Without acknowledging anyone, he lowered his head and proceeded to read the documents in the folder he’d brought with him.
Seth got the impression that the black-haired, silver-eyed operative was a loner. In yesterday’s meeting, though he’d asked pointed questions and offered intelligent observations, he’d engaged in no small talk or joined in conversations with anyone. Solitude surrounded him like an impenetrable shield.
“We set?”
Seth watched as Honor made her way down the aisle to them, and swallowed past an immediate dryness in his mouth. He’d spent five long years trying to forget that loose-hipped walk that somehow exuded both competent professionalism and gorgeous, sexy femininity. Dressed in another pantsuit, this time navy blue and just as serious-looking as the one she’d worn yesterday, paired with a white blouse with ruffles. One of the many things he’d loved about her was the paradox between her professional persona and the woman outside the job. As his lover, she’d not only been feminine and sweet, she’d been the sexiest and most giving woman he’d ever known.
“All set,” Aidan answered.
Jared Livingston lifted his head, offered a grim nod, and went back to reading.
Seth gave her a nod, too, and then, forcing himself to look away, pushed the past where it belonged. Last night, he’d spent considerable time lecturing himself about working with Honor. A lecture he fully intended to remember and abide by. And her behavior yesterday was an indication that she’d put the past behind her, too. She’d been professional but pleasant. Seth told himself he could do the same. Okay, so the pleasant part would require some work, but dammit, he would try.
Lifting his gaze from the folder whose contents he had memorized, Jared Livingston turned to the window to watch the building’s blur as the jet taxied, then zoomed down the runway for takeoff. This was his favorite part of flying … the exhilaration of speed. Damn, he loved that belly-dropping moment when the wheels went up.
Though he enjoyed that moment, he was also aware of what the other occupants of the plane were doing. Aidan was pretending that flying didn’t bother him by cracking a wise-ass comment. Jared had come to work for LCR six months ago, and one thing he’d learned about Aidan Thorne was that you should never believe the surface of the man. Behind that cocky grin and bad-boy demeanor lay secrets. But that was Aidan’s business. Digging deeper and knowing the man better wasn’t on Jared’s agenda. Who didn’t have secrets?
Eyes still on the blurring view outside the window, Jared turned his attention to Honor Stone. He’d met her a half dozen times and had worked one rescue with her. She seemed competent, if a bit too soft. Since she’d been an FBI agent and had dealt with some seriously dangerous criminals, he assumed the softness was a façade. Again, everyone had their secrets.
Seth Cavanaugh sat to the right of Stone and was doing his best to act as if he wasn’t totally aware of her. They had a past. Didn’t take a genius to see that or to know that the chemistry was still there. Jared saw past the chemistry to the hurt both of them refused to acknowledge. Their story wasn’t over.
The jet leveled out. The small jolt of excitement over, Jared returned to the file for Missy Meads. He’d be interviewing her employer and people who knew her in Indiana before he went on to Michigan to interview Karen Hatcher’s family and friends.
Last night, he’d spent hours on the files … knew them by heart now. However, Missy Meads’s story continued to draw him back to her. Each time he read it, the details made him angrier. How the hell could a young girl be gone for two frigging weeks and no one report her missing? He knew the answer, but it only infuriated him more. Truth was—nobody gave a damn.
No family; she’d been raised in an orphanage. Had few friends, if any. Lived alone in a small, cheap apartment off campus. Worked at a pizzeria that had closed down for repairs about the time she went missing. Hell, even her professors didn’t notice when she didn’t show up for class. Apparently no tests had been given during that period. The girl had been invisible.
Jared knew he was empathizing with Missy’s circumstances, perhaps more than he should. That wouldn’t keep him from finding out as much as he could about both Missy and Karen. But Karen had people who cared for her, wanted her to come home. Missy didn’t have that. Jared vowed to be that person.
Honor stood in the aisle so she could see everyone’s faces. “I know we’ve got a long flight ahead of us, but let’s go ahead and get a discussion under way. The drop-off itinerary is as follows: We’ll land in Indianapolis and drop Jared off, then head to Houston for Aidan. Seth and I will then fly to California. Rental cars should be waiting for all of us. The local authorities know we’ll be in the area. All have expressed their willingness to work with us and offer assistance where needed, but they’ll have eyes on us at all times.” She fixed Jared Livingston in her gaze as she added, “No going solo into dangerous situations or pissing off the locals. We need their cooperation.”
Livingston gave a small nod of acknowledgment, but still Honor worried. She knew the man had come to LCR fully trained and ready to kick ass. He was more than capable, but she’d seen evidence of a wild streak. Lone Ranger heroes were not her favorites to work with. However, McCall trusted him, and she trusted her boss’s judgment.
“I’m assuming everyone had an opportunity to review not only their assignments but the information on the other girls. Any questions or observations come up?”
“I have one,” Aidan said.
“What’s that?”
Instead of looking at her, his golden-brown eyes focused on Seth. “Out of all the people who go missing each year, why do you think these five were related?”
Seth shrugged. “After my brother called to tell me about Kelli, I spent days researching before contacting McCall. Though I didn’t have access to all the information, just what I could dig up or get out of my contacts, these five seemed to separate themselves out because of a lack of commonality, as opposed to similarities.”
“How’s that?” Livingston asked.
Seth blew out a sigh. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he took in everyone’s gazes. “With the exception of their ages and that they’re college students, these girls have nothing in common that we can see. Right?”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“In my opinion, that’s a commonality that’s not been explored enough.”
Intrigued by his reasoning, Honor sat down across from him. “So the fact that there’s no reason to think they’re related makes you think they are related?”
“Something like that.”
Eyeing him thoughtfully, she nodded. “Looking at things backward sometimes helps.”
Seth’s mouth twitched. “It’s definitely a different perspective.”
“You think it’s deliberate?” Jared Livingston asked.
“Yeah, I do. The guy’s got to know the authorities would look for similarities. What better way to keep them off his ass than to give them none.”
Honor shot up from her seat and began pacing, thinking out loud. “Okay, we know the similarities are the gender and age of each victim and that she’s a college student. We’ll assume the college-student aspect is just because it gives him a large pool to work within. But the age … he wants women of about the same age. Is that his preference or does he need that age group for another reason?”
“Not for material gain,” Seth said. “The girls range from having nothing to very well off. And ethnicity doesn’t matter. Drenda is Hispanic, Karen’s African-American, and the other three are Caucasian.”
“And I hate to say it, but it’s one of those nonsimilar similarities: looks don’t seem to matter, either.”
Surprised that Livingston was the one to bring this up, she said, “What do you mean?”
“All the girls, with the exception of Missy, are attractive and slender. Missy is …” He looked down at the folder in front of him and shrugged. “She wears no makeup, is about twenty pounds overweight, and looks like she just came in from a cattle drive.”
The other girls had several photographs in their files. Missy had only one, and Jared was right: it did look as though she had been doing something that not only involved dirt but was also very difficult. Filth and mud covered her jeans; the too tight white sweatshirt she wore had numerous stains.
“Makes me wonder who took this picture,” Seth said.
If possible, Jared’s face went even grimmer. “That’ll be one of my first questions.”
Honor observed the men as they continued to discuss Seth’s theory and offer input. Each man was as committed as she was to finding these young women. Question was, were they still alive to be found?
seven
Tranquillity
“No, I don’t want any of them.”
His first instinct was to lash out in frustration, but Alden held his anger in check. His children were completely opposite in temperament. His daughter went out of her way to please him in every way she could. His son, especially lately, did everything to oppose him. Not for the first time, he wished he’d spent as much time training John as he had Tabitha. Now his son was a greedy, ill-tempered, spoiled brat. Alden had no patience for such a person.
“You have three females to choose from, John. Other men have been waiting longer, and are several years older than you. Since you are my son, I’m allowing you to choose first. You should feel privileged—instead, you complain about your choices.”
The mutinous expression on John’s face was becoming a permanent affliction. “As your son, it’s my right to go before others. None of these women will do for me. I wasn’t even allowed to go on the hunting trips. My choices shouldn’t be limited to the few bitches you drag in here for the others. I deserve only the best.”
Alden didn’t lose his temper often because when he did, he lost all control. John knew this about him, but the older his son became, the more often he challenged Alden’s decisions. The boy’s arrogance was becoming problematic.
Alden’s followers weren’t allowed to question his authority, and his son was one of those followers. Though he often gave John leeway he wouldn’t give others, he refused to allow this.
“I make the mating decisions for Tranquillity, not you.”
Brown eyes, so like his, narrowed. “Fine, but at least let me go with you to get the last one for the season. I’m sure I can find one to suit me.”
Alden opened his mouth to object, but John stopped him with “You’re not the one who’s going to spend the rest of your life with her … I am.”
As much as he didn’t want to give in to his son’s childish demands, he had to admit that he made a good point. There was no such thing as divorce in Tranquillity. Women and men were bound together until death.
Alden was the only man who was allowed the outlet of divorce. Staying satisfied and free of worry enabled him to be a better leader. He’d made that clear to his people from the beginning. Not that he would ever consider divorce. A man who could not control his woman was not a man. He’d had only three wives … all of them had agreed to his requests that they leave him. Once a month, as a show of respect, he visited their graves.
“Very well. The men, starting with Nathaniel, will place bids on the three we have now. In a week or so, we’ll go out and you can make the selection yourself.”
“A week? Why not—”
Alden sprang to his feet. “Silence!” The temper he’d been fighting spewed forth. “I will not allow more questions. My word is law. Understand?”
John’s sullen nod told him that it wasn’t over. Alden opened his desk drawer, and before he knew it, the small whip he kept inside it was in his hand. Swinging hard, he slashed it across his son’s face, leaving a bloody crevice on his cheek.
Tears stung his son’s eyes and his breath hitched rapidly as he tried to control his emotions. The boy knew he had done wrong. It usually took Alden only one strike to get his point across.
Composure finally achieved, John said quietly, “I’ll await your instructions, Father.”
Satisfied that, for the time being, the matter was settled, Alden dismissed him from the room with a nod. If John complained again or continued his arrogant ways, he wouldn’t be as gentle. However, the fire continued to burn inside him, needing an outlet.
Pressing a button on his desk, he called the one woman who had the ability to calm him in the best ways possible.
“Yes, Father?” Tabitha’s voice came through the intercom.
“I have need of you.”
“I’m on my way.” He could hear the happiness in her voice. Keeping him satisfied made her happy. And Alden enjoyed making her happy.