F-Stop (7 page)

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Authors: Desiree Holt

BOOK: F-Stop
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Nando Aguilar’s low chuckle sent chills skittering along Rip’s spine. “But it is ultimately
my
bargain, is it not? I’m solving a problem for you,
si?”

“You
know
how I got into this,” Rip spat at him.

“Nevertheless, a successful conclusion to the problem will benefit us both.”

“And get you off my back once and for all.”

The chuckle resonated again through the connection. “Only if you are able to control your hungry habits,
mi amigo.

“I’m not your friend.” Rip began pacing back and forth, jingling the change in his pocket. “Once this is finished, so are we.”

“We shall see. Yes, indeed, we shall see.” His tone changed abruptly. “As soon as we have them in place, I’ll make the video and send it as we agreed. Be sure to contact the others when you receive it. Then move forward with the next step. Are you ready for your part?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m all set.”

“See that you are.”

The connection was broken abruptly. Rip snapped the cell phone shut and shoved it into his pocket, swearing under his breath. If he could just get out of this with everyone’s skin intact, he’d never, ever, make the same mistakes again.

* * * * *

Kat awoke before dawn, gray light filtering in through the slits in the blinds. The first thing she noticed was an unusual soreness in many places in her body. The second was the warm man lying curled up next to her, one leg thrown over hers, one muscular arm draped around her waist. And pleasure suffused her as she remembered every detail of the night before. No way could she deny how good it was to have Mike D’Antoni back in her bed. Or how wonderful the whole night had been. He’d woken her twice to make love again and each time was better than the time before.

But through the haze of erotic pleasure one thought pierced her brain.

No word from Mari.

This was not right. They should be in Hawaii by now. Long before this. Mari should have called. Her internal sensors told her something was wrong.

Slipping out of Mike’s grasp and out of bed as silently as she could, she found her sleep shirt and tugged it on, picked up her cell phone and made her way into the kitchen. But when she checked her voice mail there were no message. Not one.

Why oh why didn’t I get a number from her where they’d be staying? She said it was a
client’s house. Someone named Rand Prescott, I think. Yes, I’m sure that’s what she said. I
should have made her give me the damn number.

Booting up her laptop at the kitchen table, she went to the online phone directory, searching for the number of the airfield in San Diego where Mari had said the Wright plane would be landing when they stopped for lunch and refueling. But when she called them, nobody there could tell her anything. Just that the plane was still hangared there and one of the pilots had called to say there was a change of plans. They wouldn’t be leaving for a couple of days.

Kat could hardly believe that. If they were going to lay over in San Diego, Mari would have called to tell her. And she couldn’t call the Wright International office there for three more hours.

Next she searched for the number in Waikiki for Rand Prescott. The housekeeper who answered was doing her best to conceal her anxiety but she knew nothing except the Wrights and Mari had been no-shows. She’d tried calling the cell phone number she’d been given but there was no answer. The same thing when she tried to call Mr.

Prescott.

When she called the police department in San Diego to see if some kind of accident had been reported they told her they had nothing. She should wait twenty-four hours, then call back. Same thing in Waikiki.

Damn!

Finally she searched for any new reports of a small plane crash in the past twenty-four hours. She had no clout with the FAA or the NTSA, so this was the best she could do. But the two accidents she found were on the other side of the country.

After brewing herself a cup of tea in the kitchen, she carried it into the living room and stood by the big picture window, sipping at the hot liquid and trying to wipe the anxiety from her mind. When that didn’t work, she returned to her laptop and searched for the longitude and latitude of San Diego. Without specific pictures, she’d often used geographic coordinates for cueing and prompting. Finally she found a map of San Diego and brought it up full screen, carried the laptop to the window and sat down cross-legged, the computer beside her.

Inhaling and exhaling five times, cleansing breaths the way Vivi had told her, she forcibly emptied her mind of all thoughts and took herself into a meditative state. Five minutes later she was ready to try to view remotely, hoping the meditation helped and that her powers wouldn’t fade in and out.

She fixed the geographic numbers in her brain, stared at the map and sent her mind hundreds of miles away to California. In moments her “signal line” began to emerge, frequencies radiating and impacting on her perceptive faculties, the first hint of the emergence of the image she was seeking. Soon she began to perceive bits and pieces of a picture.

A corner of a white stone building. A piece of sidewalk. Was that water? A motel with a pool? A sliver of sidewalk emerged, the image wavered and sharpened. As quickly it changed to a dusty road cut through towering trees and bushes. Then everything wavered.

Damn!

It was gone. She was out of it. No, she could not lose it.

Kat went through the routine again. Hot tea. Meditation. Focus on the map on the computer.

This time the picture emerged a little more sharply and she could see the picture was a restaurant. On the water. People stood under the canopy but unlike the surroundings, they were too blurred to distinguish. A flash of black swept across her vision. A truck. No, a van.

The image stabilized, frozen across the plane of her vision. The Wright family, Mari, some strange men.

Then they were gone. Erased as if by a swipe of a cloth.

The first thing she felt was exhaustion from the effort. The second was the sense of a terrible evil. Something was very, very wrong.

Trying to control her panic, she grabbed her cell phone, checked once more to see if Mari had called, then dialed the number of her sister’s cell.

Still no answer.

She threw the phone onto the couch and flopped down next to it. What should she do? This was well past the time it should have taken them to arrive, get to the house where they were staying and settle in. What had happened in San Diego? Had they never arrived in Hawaii at all?

“Kat?”

She hadn’t even heard Mike come into the room. He’d pulled on his boxers and run his fingers through his hair but otherwise he looked pleasantly morning-after sleep rumpled.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No problem. I knew when you got up but I figured you’d be back in a minute.” His eyes took in the expression on her face and tracked over to the cell phone and then into the kitchen and the laptop. “Problem? Must be to get you up so early.” His mouth curved in a crooked smile. “I must not have worn you out as much as I thought.”

“I still haven’t heard from my sister. I’m trying not to worry or make a huge deal out of it. Except she knows to call me regularly so I won’t worry. I’ve checked missed calls and called her cell at least two dozen times. Mike, they never arrived in Hawaii.” She told him about her calls to the airfield, the house in Waikiki and to the police in both San Diego and Hawaii. “The airfield said they got a call about plans being changed and the police give me the same old line about waiting twenty-four hours. I can’t do that.”

“What else?” he asked. “I can tell by your voice there’s something.”

“I-I did a remote viewing session and I think something happened in San Diego.”

“Okay. Let’s not panic yet.” His voice was calming, reassuring. Even. “Is there coffee here?” She nodded. “Let’s put a pot on and get dressed. Then I’ll get to work.” She leaped off the couch and threw her arms around him, trying her best to beat back the fear. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Hey.” He looked down at her and winked. “It’s what I do, remember?” She gave Mike the guest bathroom and used her sister’s. By the time she’d showered, pulled on jeans and a t-shirt and scraped her hair back into a ponytail, the coffee was done and Mike was at the kitchen table, cell phone glued to his ear. He pointed at the coffee pot and the mug waiting for her.

“Okay,” he was saying. “Uh-huh. Thanks. I really appreciate it.” Kat took the chair next to Mike. “Who was that?”

“One of my partners. Mark Halloran. I told you about him yesterday.”

“I remember. His wife’s the author.”

Mike nodded. “He’s on his way over here.”

Kat looked at the kitchen clock. “Now? At this hour?”

“Mark and Faith will be here in thirty.”

“Here?” Kat squeaked. “Ohmigod, Mike. I look like hell and I have nothing in the place to serve them.”

“Not to worry,” he laughed. “They’ll bring breakfast.” His face sobered. “I told him it was important. From what you said, I can tell it is.” She nodded, trying to make her voice as calm as possible. “Mari still hasn’t called yet, Mike. That’s so unlike her. And that isn’t all. I don’t think they ever left San Diego.” He raised an eyebrow. “What? Why do you say that?”

She took a swallow of the hot liquid, cradling the mug in her hands, then set it back down in front of her. “I wouldn’t tell this to just anyone but since you already know about my so-called gift and said your partners’ wives have gifts also, I thought…”

“It’s all right.” He reached across the kitchen table and picked up one of her hands with his, lacing his fingers through hers. “I’m with you. So tell me again what you did.”

“I decided to start with San Diego because they were scheduled to stop there for fuel and lunch.” She brushed a stray stand of hair away from her forehead. “If I didn’t

‘see’ anything there, then I’d try Hawaii but I don’t have enough information for that yet. I’d need to know where they were supposed to land and the approximate location of the house where they are supposed to be staying.”

“Okay. So were you able to see anything?”

“Not as much as I wanted.” She took another sip of her coffee and set the mug down carefully. “Remote viewing isn’t exactly what people think it is. A viewer can focus and send her or his thought waves hundreds or even thousands of miles away.

They find a signal line, like with radio waves, using photos or GPS locations or a variety of techniques. But it isn’t like turning on the television.”

“So what
is
it like? What
do
you see?”

“I see the scenes like pictures,” she explained. “Like images taken with an imperfect camera, where part of the images are missing. Then I focus…focus…focus and a shutter in my brain goes click! Freeze frame and there it is. Whatever
there
turns out to be.”

“So what did you see?” he prodded again.

She told him what little she’d been able to gather. “Enough to make me believe something bad happened in San Diego,” she said. “I know it. I feel it. And Mike? Don’t think I’m crazy but I get a sense of tremendous evil involved here.”

“I’ve learned not to disregard those kinds of feelings,” he told her. “Especially in the last couple of years.”

“I just don’t know who to get hold of or how to go about tracking them down. I’m such an idiot I can’t remember the name of the people who own the house they’re supposed to be staying in.” She raked her fingers through her hair. “This is so
not
like me.”

He eased his fingers away from hers and reached out to cup her chin. “I can handle that.” His eyes were blazing with unspoken emotion. “I want you to trust me with this, Kat. Phoenix can help.”

“Oh god, I hope so. If anything’s happened to her…”

“Let’s not borrow more trouble until we have to.”

He picked up his cell phone again. Kat refilled their coffee cups and listened while he called someone named Andy and asked for a list and all contact information for Wright International’s executive staff. Also the same information for any other members of the family—sisters, brothers, whatever.

When the doorbell rang Mike got up to answer it. Kat heard the sound of voices as they came through the living room into the kitchen. The small room was crowded with two very big men and a brunette who Kat thought was too gorgeous to be legal. Faith Wilding, the famous author. Here. In Mari’s kitchen.

Then she took a look at the man standing next to Mike. As tall as Mike, he had broader shoulders with the same lean but muscular frame. A thick shock of midnight black hair topped a rugged face with inky black eyes. He looked as serious as Mike.

Mike made the introductions. “Kat Culhane, Faith and Mark Halloran.” She held out her hand and Mark shook it. “Pleasure meeting you, Miss Culhane.”

“Kat. Please. Too bad it’s not the social occasion planned for later this morning.”

“I’m just glad to meet you at all. My aunt raved and raved about you.” Faith stepped forward and pulled Kat into a hug. “You look like you need more than a handshake.”

Kat felt an instant connection with the woman, as if they’d known each other forever. “I don’t…I can’t…”

“We’re fine. Everything will be okay.” She stepped back and gestured at a large open box on the counter. “We brought offerings from Krispy Kreme, the doughnut of the angels. Why don’t we all sit down and you can fill us in on the situation.” So Kat told her story once more, this time in greater detail as she explained about the trip, where the Wrights and Mari were going, everything she actually knew.

“She’d call me unless something was wrong,” Kat insisted. “We’re very close. Since our parents died we only have each other.”

“Okay, let’s see what the Dragonslayer’s got so far,” Mark said, turning on his BlackBerry and scrolling through it.

Kat raised her eyebrows. “The Dragonslayer?”

“Andy. Our resident geek. He runs the super-duper computer back in Baltimore that Dan Romeo, our senior partner, dubbed the Dragon. Hence the name.”

“Okay, here we go.” Mark was punching buttons on his BlackBerry. “Names and phone numbers at Wright International. Ron Pelley, the executive veep. Andy sent his private numbers for home and office. Let’s start with him.” He tapped in the number.

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