A SEAL to Save Christmas (2 page)

She nodded. “Joshua has been so great through all of this. He’s been helping me figure out the financial situation, but the board members are pressuring me to resign so they can pick another CEO. I guess I still want to keep the seat warm for Tim.”
 

“Joshua?”

“That’s Tim’s business partner. Joshua Mines.”

Jason frowned. He really wasn’t on the up and up when it came to the business world. “I didn’t know Myers had a business partner. Wouldn’t it be Mines and Myers?”

“Joshua is more of a silent partner. He invested quite a bit of money in Tim’s business and helped him get started. After he made his money back twice over, Tim offered him half the shares to thank him. Joshua sits on the board of committees. I’d sell everything to him, but Joshua wants me to hold out for just a little longer.” She blinked through the tears. “I guess he’s holding out hope as well. He’s like family to me.”
 

Her phone rang, and they both stared at it. “The caller ID is blocked,” she whispered.
 

“Could you have been followed?”

Helen shook her head. “I walked here through the woods and the park. No one could have followed me unless they did it on foot.”
 

“Answer it.” He scooted his chair around so he could listen in. “Don’t put it on speaker phone.”
 

Once he was close enough to her that their thighs touched, she answered the phone. “Hello,” she whispered.
 

“Ms. Myers. We have your son,” an electronic voice came over the phone. “If you ever want to see him again, you will wire five million dollars to an account of our choice. Prepare the money. We’ll be in touch tomorrow.”
 

“Wait, let me hear his voice,” she said desperately.
 

“Negative. Five million dollars.”
 

“But it’s Friday. The money won’t be ready until Monday,” she cried.
 

There was a pause. “We understand. We’ll be in touch tomorrow.”
 

“I want to hear his voice. Davis!” she exclaimed, but the line went dead.
 

Leonard leaned back. “This is good. This is really good. These have got to be the dumbest kidnappers of all time.”
 

Helen stared at him. “What? What do you mean?”

“We have two and a half days to find him. There’s a lot we can do in two and a half days. Come on. We need to do some shopping.” He got up, and she followed shakily.
 

“Shopping? My son is missing,” she said in a disgusted voice.
 

“Yes. And there are things we need.” He blew out his breath. The wheels in his head were already turning. There were just so many things that didn’t make sense. Like why the kidnappers wouldn’t offer proof of life.
 

And why her son hadn’t screamed when strangers took him out of the park.
 

After dropping Helen off at her house, he cruised around the block a few times to see if anyone was watching her. She lived in a gated community with multi-million dollar homes. There was no way someone was just sitting on the streets and staring at her. And there weren’t any empty houses nearby for him to squat in.
 

Or her. It wasn’t unfathomable to think that a woman had kidnapped young Davis Myers.
 

As he drove back to the gate, he parked his car and got out to have a little chat with the security guard. It was a long shot. Helen had said that there were no maintenance men in her home for over a year, but she’d had the wake at her home and a whole host of visitors since then.
 

Anyone could have planted that bug, but he needed some kind of break.
 

Not wanting to break his cover in case the security guard was in on it (never underestimate anyone), he leaned over the guard window and cocked his head. “My name is Tyler Morgan, and I’m looking into the string of thefts over on the Halbrook Community. We’re concerned that they’re going to hit here next. Any chance I can get a list of the people that have come in and out of here over the past month?”

The guard looked at his fake detective license and widened his eyes. “Oh gosh, I’ve heard of those. You don’t really think anything like that can happen here, do you?”

Jason looked at the guy like he was an idiot. “It’s the same kind of neighborhood. Same security systems. Same high profile residents. Why wouldn’t it?”

The guard nodded his head. “Sure. Sure. But I can’t just give you the list. I’d have to check with the home office first. But I promise you that I haven’t let anyone in here who wasn’t called in personally from a resident or on our pass list.”
 

“Pass list?”

The guard nodded. “Certain companies are allowed in to do routine maintenance. We give our residents a heads up, but it includes power, cable, lawn services, and exterminators. People like that.”
 

Jason narrowed his eyes. “Do they have to have a pass?”

The guard shook his head. “No. We recognize their trucks.”
 

So anyone who was familiar with the neighborhood would know that. His suspect list just got bigger.
 

“Never mind,” he sighed.
 

“Never mind? I can call the office if you’d like?”

So they could find out that his license was a fake? “Don’t bother. Anyone with a decal on a van could get in here. Thank anyways, pal.”
 

The guard smiled. “I’m happy to help. Hey, I gotta ask. Do you meet many women in your line of work? I’d love to go private.”
 

Jason snorted. “Tons of women,” he said wryly. Just none that wanted to let him get past first base.
 

Or, rather, let him even get to first base.
 

“Nice,” the guard laughed.
 

Feeling somewhat dirtier than usual, Jason scowled and moved back to his car. After driving back to his office, he booted up his computer and started looking through some of the information. Everything Helen had said checked out. All the newspapers declared that police and everyone had given up searching for Timothy’s body. There was never a ransom note, and there was no reason for him to leave. He had a happy marriage, a beautiful boy, and a successful business. Nothing shady or sinister going on there.
 

Except that blood in the hotel indicated a murder, and they were calling it an accidental death. He went deeper until he found a reporter that followed his same line of thought.
 

What the Police Don’t Want You to Know about Billionaire Timothy Myer’s Disappearance.
 

Staring at the headline, Jason thumped his pencil against the paper. He scrolled through the article until he found something interesting. Scribbling it down in his notebook, he reached over and called the newspaper. After claiming that he had information on the Myer disappearance, he agreed to meet reporter Dan Johnson in two hours in the Sulliver’s Department store parking deck.
 

Really? A parking deck? Some people just loved the flare for the dramatic.
 

Picking up the phone again, he dialed a familiar number. “Ready to come to your senses?” a rough voice growled on the other side.
 

Jason ignored him. “I need a favor, Smith.”
 

“I only do favors for Seals,” Trevor Smith muttered.
 

“Once a Seal, always a Seal,” Jason said easily.
 

“Active Seals. What the hell do you want, Leonard?”

“I need a name of someone who can help me out in town. I’ve got a bug.”
 

“Call an exterminator.”
 

“Not that kind of bug. Come on, Smith. Help an old friend out.”
 

He could hear the sound of weights clanking in the background. Trevor Smith was the biggest nerd he knew, but he could easily pound a man with one hand tied behind his back. He took out all that aggression that had built up when he was bullied in middle school and brought it to the Navy.
 

Trevor Smith was terrifying.
 

“I hate to enable you during this little project of yours,” he hissed. “When are you going to come back to the fold?”
 

Leonard didn’t say anything. He missed his old comrades. He really did. But feeling lonely simply wasn’t enough for him to go back. Smith must have heard volumes in that silence. “Got a pen?”

“Yup.”
 

Smith rumbled off an address. “Tallyhouse is the best I know in Dallas. Be careful when you go in, though. I’m fairly certain that half of his equipment is illegal.”
 

“You got a phone number for me?”

“Nope. Tallyhouse doesn’t have a phone, and few people know of his address. When you show up, he’ll be suspicious, but he’ll know someone trustworthy sent you.”
 

“Roger that.”
 

“Leonard?”

“I’m not in the mood for a heart-to-heart, Smith. I’m happy. I’m fine. I hope you’re the same.”
 

He hung up the phone before his old buddy could say anything else. Smith would be pissed, and he’d bitch to the old gang, and they’d be calling him soon.
 

And he’d ignored their phone calls. It was almost a ritual now.
 

The address was about half an hour out. He could make it there and still make it to his creepy parking deck appointment with time to spare. As he stepped out of his office, he winced.
 

He could only afford a small space in the dingy part of town, but what they lacked in funds, they made up for it excitement. Christmas decoration hung from every building and every light pole. Every few days, someone tried to hang a wreath on his door. Ripping it off, he tossed it back in the street. He really needed to install a camera to catch the idiot that kept trying to hard.
 

It wasn’t that Leonard was against Christmas. The holiday was fine. Annoying and long lasting, but otherwise fine. Still, he had a reputation to protect. What hardened security guard had a pansy wreath on his door?

And someone was deliberately going against his wishes.
 

He’d need to teach that someone a lesson.
 

Stepping over the wreath, he opened the door to his beat up jeep and climbed in. The bottle of whiskey stashed in his console called his name, but the picture of young Davis Myers rose in his mind.
 

Better stay sober for this one.
 

Tallyhouse’s place was a rundown shack on the wrong side of the tracks. It was more ghetto that his office strip. Tucking his gun in the back of his pants, he stepped cautiously out and looked around. The nearest neighbor was a mile away, and the place was covered in trees. Anyone could be hiding anywhere.
 

“Relax,” he muttered to himself. “It’s the house of a nerd, not a terrorist.”
 
Striding over to the front door, he pounded on it. “Tallyhouse?”

“Don’t broadcast my name you idiot!”
 

Startled, Jason looked around. The voice was coming from in front of him. Inspecting the door closely, he realized that the doorbell was just a covering. Flipping it up, he found the intercom. “Smith gave me your address,” he said softly as he pushed the button. “I need your help.”
 

“I’m busy. Go away.”
 

Nerd had a mouth on him. “I’m not leaving. There’s a boy’s life at stake.”
 

After a moment, he heard the click on the door. Cautiously, he turned the knob. It swung open easily.
 

He stepped in and immediately ran into another wall. “Drop your gun off at the desk. You can have it when you leave,” Tallyhouse said through a speaker.
 

“I don’t have a gun,” Jason lied.
 

“I’m not an idiot. I saw you tuck it in when you got out of the Jeep.”
 

Jason was impressed. The man had cameras everywhere, and Jason hadn’t seen a single one. He pulled the gun out and placed it on the counter.
 

The door buzzed and opened. Jason tried not to smirk. Nerd didn’t realize that he had another weapon tucked into his ankle holster.
 

The room inside comprised of a small kitchen, a small half door that probably led to the bathroom, a murphy bed, a torn up couch, and what was probably millions of dollars worth of equipment.
 

Jason couldn’t help but whistle. “That’s a lot of money in here. Why are you living in a shack?”

A small man in glasses and a baseball hat turned around to stare at him. “I don’t live here. I just work here. And I need security. This neighborhood is practically abandoned. I’ve had eyes on you for the last mile. It’s convenient.”
 

“Right.” It was best not to ask questions, so he pulled out the bag Helen had handed to him and tossed it on the desk. “Can you trace this?”

Tallyhouse glared at him. “I work on top secret government projects. You’re interrupting me for a bug?”

“The Myers boy has been kidnapped. The mother found it in the house. I have the weekend to figure out who took him. So yes, I’m interrupting you for a bug.”
 

“The Myers boy?” Tallyhouse snatched up the bag and smiled. “Well now, that is interesting.”
 

Jason lifted his eyebrows. “Interesting? How so?”

“The disappearance of Timothy Myers is intriguing. I’ve wanted to look into it, but I’ve been busy. Now I have an excuse.”
 

“Hold up,” Jason said as he lifted his hand. “We don’t have time for that. Just trace the bug, Boy Genius.”
 

“I’m twenty-five,” the man said with a scowl.
 

Twenty-five? Jason wished he could go back to twenty-five. “Like I said, Boy Genius. I’d give you my number, but you don’t have a phone.”