Kidnapped Hearts (33 page)

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Authors: Cait Jarrod

BOOK: Kidnapped Hearts
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“Not
sure how it adds up.”

Jake
slid on his shoes. “Come get me. I’ll be at the front entrance.”

“You
can’t leave.”

“Watch
me.”

 

 

Chapter
Twenty-Seven

 

Jake
hurried out of the hospital room and passed the nurse’s station toward the
elevators.

“Sir,
you can’t leave,” a nurse huffed as she reached him.

“Got
to.” He pushed the elevator button.

“I
have to get discharge papers from your doctor.”

The
elevator door dinged open, and she tried to block his path.

“Ma’am,
if you don’t move out of my way, I will be forced to do it for you, despite my
wounded shoulder.” Jake glowered at her.

“Uhh.”
She stood as he pushed past her to enter the elevator.

The
information Agent Dennis gave him kept echoing in his head, and his concern for
Pamela heightened. Anger flowed through Jake’s veins. Agent Lever had a lot to
answer for. He hated to think what he would do if he came across him.

As
Jake reached the front entrance of the hospital, Dennis was already waiting in
the car.

“How’d
you get here so fast?” Jake asked, climbing into the passenger seat.

“I
was driving over when I called you. Here’s your new phone and the information
Lever had gotten concerning Ms. Smith.”

Jake
flipped opened the file, scanned the contents, then called the office.

“Fredericksburg
Office,” the office secretary responded.

“Missy,
dispatch an APB out on a white 1998 Buick Century. License plate Charlie, Alfa,
Foxtrot, Echo One. C.A.F.É.1,” Jake read from the file. “Two white females, Ms.
Pamela Young and Ms. Charlene Smith.”

“Right
away.”

“Is
the Director there?”

“Not
yet.”

“Larry?”
Jake drummed his fingers on the dashboard.

“Not
yet.”

“Damn,
where is everyone?”

“Agent
Downs
is in.”

“Hold
on.” Jake covered the phone and turned toward Dennis. “Can we trust an Agent
Downs?”

Dennis
shrugged. “Harry Downs. You wouldn’t think so with a name like that, but he’s
clean.”

“Patch
me through,” Jake said into the phone.

Agent
Downs
picked up the line.


Downs
, Gibson here. A Charlene Smith has abducted a civilian,
Pamela Young, to an unknown location. Get all the available agents together on
the Wine/Jameson/Young case. Convene in the conference room ASAP.”

“On
it.”

“Also,
put up a roadblock within a twenty-mile radius and alert the airports and
railroads. Put a trace on Young and Smith’s cell phones. Missy has Charlene
Smith’s tag.”

“Roger
that.” Click.

Jake
dialed Pamela’s cell phone. No answer.
Fuck

****

Pamela’s
eyes flickered open as she heard the crackle of wheels on gravel. She looked
out the passenger window. The pain in her head made it difficult to see, but
she spotted a cabin ahead. The car halted between it and a hill covered with
pine trees.

“Get
out!” The man poked Pamela with the gun, urging her on.

Charlene
and Pamela simultaneously opened the car doors and slid out. Pamela touched the
bruise on her cheek and scanned the area. Woods blanketed three sides of the
cabin. “Where are we?”

He
grunted and pointed his gun toward the back of the cabin. A brown leather
jacket came into view, a Scorpion. They were in huge trouble.

A
beat up car was parked behind the cabin, the engine running.

“Get
in!”

Charlene
and Pamela climbed into the backseat, hoping the Scorpion would sit in the
front. The back door opened, and his thigh pressed against Pamela.

Hands
shaking, Pamela clutched her knee with her good hand and stared out the window
past Charlene’s bobbing head. Charlene was crying so hard, her head jerked with
every breath. Pamela swallowed and prepared for the worst and prayed Jake would
find them quickly.

The
car turned out of the driveway and took a right. They were heading up the
mountain.
Were they going to push them
over?
She grimaced and pinched her lips together.

Charlene
eyed her and moved Pamela’s hand from her knee.

Pamela
hadn’t noticed the death grip she had on herself.

The
car stopped on top of the mountain. Two old ranger cabins stood in a small
clearing surrounded by pine trees. They stopped, and the man behind the wheel
slid out then opened their door. “Guido, unlock the cabin,” the driver ordered
as Pamela straightened.

The
Scorpion that held them at gunpoint for the long ride crossed to the cabin
closest to them.

Pamela
looked at the dark skinned man standing beside them, no jacket.

“Get
in there,” he demanded and nudged them with his gun to the door.

They
inched over the threshold. The only source of light was from a small window
covered with bars. Pamela glanced around the interior. No furniture, no
kitchen, no bathroom, simply dirt, and probably bugs and spiders.

The
man named Guido shoved her inside. The left side of her body slammed against
the wall, then she fell to the dirt floor. Charlene hit the wall.

The
door banged behind them, dividing the women from the scumbags. The sound of the
door being bolted echoed.

Pamela
shifted. When her side hit the wall, a sharp pain stabbed her in the
midsection.

Charlene
looked out the window. “One of the monsters is running down the mountain.”

“I
hope he falls and dies.” Pamela was surprised at how much she meant it.

“I’m
sorry,” Charlene said.

“Tell
me what happened.”

Charlene
leaned back against the wall. “I own a café in
Colonial
Beach
.”

“That
would explain the excellent recommendation.”

Through
the shadows, Pamela watched her.

Charlene
pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “My husband and
I bought the café five years ago, and two years ago, Andrew left me and my son
debt.”

“How
old is your son?”

Charlene’s
voice trembled. “Seven.”

“Where
is he?”

“My
Mom watched him when I worked,” Charlene sobbed.

“Watched,
as in past tense, as in not happening anymore?”

She
swiped at her tears. “I refused to help Jameson kidnap you.”

“What?”

Charlene
cleared her throat. “Jameson said if I helped him get inside your café, he’d
forgive the loan and leave me alone.”

“You
borrowed money from him?”

“Yes,
my husband left us with horrible credit. No banks would give me a loan. When I
thought the bank would foreclose, this real nice man…” Charlene sucked in a
breath. “At least, he seemed that way at first. Mr. Jameson acted concerned about
my dilemma. He said he heard a rumor I could use help. He painted a picture,
which made his terms seem simple. I borrowed the money and planned to pay it
back.” She paused. “Later, he changed the terms, and I freaked when he told me
to help kidnap you. I told him to go to hell.”

Pamela
believed Charlene. She was as much a pawn in this as she was. “He wants me for
the bonds my stepfather stole from him … for him … whatever. He must think he
has them still.”

Charlene
bit her lip. “Doesn’t he?”

Pamela
shook her head. “Problem is someone killed him.”

Charlene
gasped.

Pamela
continued, “What happened when you refused?”

“That’s
when … he to-oo-ok … my … so-on.” Charlene blubbered. “My mother was
babysitting Henry when someone broke into her house, beat her, and took my son.
She’s in the hospital. They said if I didn’t help them, I would see my son in
the m—”

Pamela
wasn’t positive, but she believed Charlene said morgue.

****

Jake
opened the office door, followed by Dennis, and spotted Larry Newman standing
near the secretary’s desk. “Got anything?”

Larry
shook his head. “Not yet.”

Director
Kennedy stormed in. “What in the hell happened? I thought everyone was in
custody or dead.” The Director looked at Jake. “Why are you out of the
hospital?”

“You
don’t expect me to sit back and wait, do you?”

The
Director slid a hand down his face. “No, I don’t.”

Director
Kennedy loosened his tie and exhaled an exasperated breath. “Let’s resume this
behind closed doors.” He marched into the conference room, followed by the rest
of the agents involved, and Jake, then stopped in front of the wall covered
with information from the case. “Good thing the details from the case are still
up. So, what do we know?”

Jake
led in with the facts. “Approximately ten-thirty this morning, Ms. Young
arrived at the café, then left with Charlene Smith under the pretense that she
had a meeting at the bank.”

“Charlene
Smith?” Director Kennedy questioned.

“She’s
the new chef Ms. Young hired,” Agent Newman provided.

“I
remember.” The Director pointed to her picture on the wall just as his cell
phone rang. He glanced down at the number. “Gibson, take over while I take
this.”

“Agent
Dennis, would you inform the other agents what you told me this morning with
regard to Ms. Smith?”

Jake
removed his sling and tossed it into a nearby chair. His shoulder ached, but
not enough to have to slow down.

Dennis
finished his brief, then Jake added, “I want a list of Smith’s friends,
contacts, bank accounts, hell you know the drill. Dig deep.”

“On
it.” Dennis walked out the door.

Missy
popped her head in. “Agent Newman, phone call.”

Larry
left the conference room and headed to his office.

“Where’s
Downs
?”

Agent
Wilson
spoke
up. “He’s helping out in the field. I picked up the task of setting up the
roadblocks. All airports have been notified as you requested. Roadblocks are in
place, but…”

“But
what?”

“It
took twenty minutes to erect the roadblocks.”

Jake
looked up from the computer display of an area map and lifted his eyebrow.
“And?”

“There’s
a chance they breached the perimeter before the officers reached their posts.”

“Damn,
I can’t see anything on this map.” Jake scratched his jaw. “After 9/11, this
request should have been easy to carry out. Let’s expand the radius. The
interstate is probably the last road they’d take. On the rural roads, they
can’t travel too fast without being detected on radar. Set the blocks up
seventy miles out.”

“I’ll
work on it.” Agent
Wilson
left.

Through
the open door, Jake stuck his head out. “Missy, get me a map of
Fredericksburg
and the
surrounding counties. Tack it on a board.”

In
short order, the conference room transformed into a makeshift command center.
After pouring a cup of coffee from the pot Missy brought in earlier, Jake
studied the map.

Larry
bounded into the room. “Officers found Smith’s car on U.S. Route 29, abandoned.
Crime scene investigators are processing the car. I’m headed there now.” Larry
left for the scene; another agent followed.

Steve
marched into the room. “Jake—”

“I
thought you left last night.” Jake rubbed his left shoulder, working through
the pain.

“You
should have that in a sling.”

“I’ll
use some of your special potion later if needed.”

Kennedy
re-entered the room. “
Anderson
,
close the door.” Kennedy waited until Steve shut the door and settled into a
chair before continuing. “I’m assuming Jameson has Pamela. If so, we can
arrange a trade, Wine for Pamela. Oh crap, Wine got himself killed. Damn.” He
scratched his chin. “I bet Jameson doesn’t know Wine’s dead. We’ll use a
double. In the meantime, the bearer bonds are in DC. I’ll get them to you.”

“Sir.
Jameson won’t give Pamela up until he has a face-to-face with me. He wants
payback for Sanjar.”

Kennedy
squared his shoulders and faced Jake. “No doubt, the Black Scorpions and
Jameson want you dead. Humor me, use the double first.”

Jake
messaged his neck and considered what he said, then nodded. “Okay, what’s your
plan?”

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