Bringing Benjy Home (Security Ops) (5 page)

Trey muttered a curse, and his friends looked at him in surprise. “You can’t possibly believe this, Raine. I’d expect it from Lauren—she’s out of her mind with grief. But you’re usually more rational.”

Raine’s eyes flashed. “I know that there aren’t always rational explanations for human behavior. I’ve learned from experience that people do some pretty horrible things, things psychiatrists can’t even explain, because those acts aren’t
rational
. Why do you accept the reality of evil in the world and not accept the possibility that there are people who possess powers that science can’t completely understand?”

“It really doesn’t matter,” Mac soothed his wife. “Even if it’s true, it doesn’t change anything. We still don’t know where Benjy is.”

“Yes, we do,” Jaida put in. Her words had captured everyone’s attention. “The motel they’re at is called Glenview.” She recalled the flickering neon light that had shone in the window the woman had stood at. “The ‘V in the vacancy sign is burned out. The road sign out front reads Highway 128.”

Chapter 3

“This is wonderful!” Raine enthused. Her gaze sought her husband’s. “Honey, can’t we do something now?”

Mac was rubbing the back of his neck in consternation. “Do you want me to check this out?” he asked Trey quietly.

Trey didn’t even spare him a glance. His gaze speared through Jaida. “Lady, don’t mess with me. You’ll be very sorry if you do.”

“For heaven’s sake, Trey, she’s trying to help,” Raine admonished him. “Quit threatening her!”

The pounding in Jaida’s skull had lessened slightly from the effects of the medication, but the resulting drowsiness made it just as difficult to concentrate. “I can’t tell you exactly where the motel is, but . . .”

“We can get that information ourselves. If—” Trey’s voice was loaded with meaning “—it actually exists.”

“I’ve got my laptop,” Mac said, interrupting the silent battle of wills. “It won’t take long to get this settled.”

After one last steely look in Jaida’s direction, Trey followed his partner out of the room.

Raine turned to Jaida and let out a sigh. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell which of those two men is the most stubborn.”

“They do seem to have a lot in common,” Jaida observed wanly.

Raine’s gaze narrowed in concern. “You look ready to pass out. I’m going to make you something to eat and then you may as well get some rest. I’ll bring in your luggage and get the guest room ready for you.” Not waiting for an answer, she rose and joined the men in the kitchen.

Jaida sighed, and gave in to the temptation to close her eyes for a minute. Unbeckoned, a picture of Trey formed behind her eyelids. She’d never met a man like him before, one who wielded such tight control over his emotions. The only time that careful mask slipped was when he was talking to his sister. Then one could catch glimpses of the same frustration and anguish that ate at Lauren. He was a hard man, but not a completely unfeeling one. She wondered fuzzily what it would take for the man to show that kind of devotion to someone other than his family.

Two hours later, Trey rubbed a hand across his burning eyes. His system was feeling the effects of an overdose of coffee and too little sleep. “This whole thing is just too hard to believe.”

“You heard the call I made. It verified what we found on the web. There’s only one motel on Highway 128 called Glenview.” Mac raked one hand through his hair, stretched. “They even admit their sign is partially burned out.”

“And it’s located outside Boston.”

“Where Lauren’s husband lives.”

“If I believed in even a word that came out of Jaida’s mouth, I’d be real worried right now,” Trey said tersely.

“If Jaida’s on the level—” Mac started.

“She’s not.”

“But if she is, we’d be almost certain that Penning has finally tracked Lauren down.”

“We still can’t be sure that he hasn’t.” Trey rubbed a hand over his face. “We always knew the jealous bastard wasn’t going to just let her disappear without a trace. I’ve been aware of his efforts to trail her ever since I rescued her from his estate.” Although Lauren was using a new last name and Social Security number, those precautions wouldn’t deter someone who had unlimited resources at his disposal. Penning had the money and connections needed to conduct a sustained search. And given his insane possessiveness, he was certainly determined enough.

Mac frowned. “So let’s assume for the moment that Penning somehow discovered Lauren had a brother and tracked you both here. You said he was unaware of Lauren’s pregnancy before you helped her escape him.”

“Believe me, Benjy’s existence would be an unwelcome surprise to him. He always insisted she use birth control. He was so damn jealous he couldn’t even stand the thought of sharing her with children. She was terrified when she found out she was pregnant. She was certain he’d force her to have an abortion.”

“She must have been just as scared of what would happen to the child if he was brought up with William Penning for a father,” Mac said soberly.

Trey nodded. It hadn’t take Lauren long after her marriage to discover that her husband was an abusive, controlling bully. In the years that followed, however, she’d become convinced that she’d married a monster. By the time her brother had reentered her life, she’d already begun taking steps to escape from Penning. With Trey’s help she had done so, and he’d kept her hidden ever since.

It had been many long months before Lauren had stopped looking over her shoulder. Trey believed that his presence helped her make that transition. And Benjy’s birth had given both of them the opportunity to revel in the simple pleasure of being a family again.

Mac frowned. “Something about this just doesn’t add up. If Penning was so desperate to get Lauren back, why wasn’t she the one snatched? If he hated the thought of kids so much, why would he have Benjy taken, instead?”

Trey didn’t answer right away. That terrible rage was back, the one that threatened to encompass him each time he thought of the unknown persons responsible for snatching his young nephew away. If he focused on that emotion, however, he’d never be of any use in securing Benjy’s return. He firmly slammed the mental door on that unproductive feeling and was left only with the now-familiar lingering sense of guilt.

His voice, when he replied, was clipped. “Who knows? He could be punishing Lauren, taunting her, putting her through a little agony before he uses Benjy to force her to come back to him.”

“But the Feds have been keeping Penning under surveillance, right? And they’ve had nothing to report so far.”

Trey shook his head. “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything, though. Only that if Penning is involved, he hasn’t been stupid enough to take Benjy to his own home.” So far the Bureau had come up with no more than had the LAPD detective assigned to the case. Trey wondered cynically whether the Bureau would have been so interested in the kidnapping if it hadn’t been for the identity of Benjy’s father. The Feds must have jumped at the chance of catching Penning involved in something, anything they could manage to pin on him. The man’s law practice made millions a year defending men affiliated with one of the East Coast’s most powerful mob families. Too many times he’d destroyed the cases of federal prosecutors, using highly questionable tactics to win acquittals for his clients. He’d been investigated himself on occasion, suspected of jury tampering.

Unconsciously, his fingers curled into fists. Trey had never intended to keep Lauren hidden away indefinitely. She deserved complete freedom, and only a divorce would accomplish that. But each time Trey had broached the subject with his sister, she’d become so overwrought that he’d always backed off. Her extreme fear of her husband was more than justified, he knew. People who crossed the man usually wound up missing or dead.

“If Penning
is
behind this,” Mac said, “why haven’t we heard from him? If his motive is to get Lauren back, he’d have to make a contact, right? The man has already waited almost ten days. That doesn’t sound like someone with a bargaining chip to use.”

One of Trey’s fists came down on the tabletop, punctuating his words. “Hell, who can predict how that sick bastard’s mind works? And why are we bothering to try? We still don’t have any proof that he’s the one behind this.”

“Proof, no. But if you believe Jaida . . .”

“Believe a whacked-out hillbilly professing psychic powers?” Trey scoffed. “I’m growing desperate, buddy, but not that desperate. Oh, she’s good, I’ll grant her that. She’s got Lauren dazzled with her lucky description of Benjy, but there’s no way she’s going to convince me she can hold on to a stuffed elephant and see across the country. No, she probably just described a motel she once stayed at, which just happens to be close to Boston. God.” He raked his fingers impatiently through his hair. “If her ‘help’ has this effect on us, just think how it would affect Lauren.”

Mac considered his words. “So what’s our next move?”

“Next?” Trey took out his cell. “Next we put the police to work. I’m calling Detective Reynolds and telling him of the ‘anonymous tip’ we received that Benjy was sighted at Glenview Motel, Highway 128, outside of Boston.” He broke off when someone answered at the other end of the line. The detective didn’t sound pleased to be awakened at that hour, nor did he put much stock in the “tip.” Trey remained smooth and unruffled—and totally insistent. When he hung up, a slight smile of satisfaction curled his mouth.

“Success?” Mac asked.

Trey nodded. “The detective agreed to alert the Massachusetts State Police immediately.”

“So we should know in a matter of hours whether Jaida can be of some real help to us.”

Trey corrected him. “All we’re doing is calling her bluff. In a matter of hours we’ll prove that she’s the phony I’ve always known she’d be. And then we’ll still have a kidnapper to track.”

The sedative that Trey had badgered his sister into taking had her sleeping well into the morning. Jaida seemed to be sleeping just as soundly. Trey sipped at what seemed to be his thousandth cup of coffee and contemplated the picture she made, curled up like a child under a blanket Raine must have provided. He’d never known another woman to wear her hair that color, so pale a blond that it looked like white gold. But it provided a sharp contrast to her dark lashes and brows, so perhaps that was why she’d chosen it, he thought cynically. Some women went to great lengths to draw attention to themselves.

Not that he had anything against women. When he had the time for it, his social life was as active and full as any man could hope for. He was able to don the mask of charming host at will, and there was never any shortage of women who were willing to accept what he could offer them. More were intrigued than put off by his candor when he informed them that he was not in the market for a lasting relationship. The women he chose either never realized how little of himself he was willing to share or they didn’t care.

Had he met Jaida West at another time, he might have given her a second look, but he wouldn’t have pursued her. He preferred his partners sophisticated, poised and as in control of their emotions as he was. From what he’d observed of her so far, this woman never had an unspoken thought. She’d also been alarmingly easy to rouse to emotion. She’d spit anger at him several times already in the past twenty hours or so.

He wondered what other emotions would be easy to rouse in her.

Frowning slightly, he banished the wayward thought. It was time to start planning for Jaida’s return to Arkansas, but first he’d make her aware of the foolish mistake she’d made by attempting to hoax Trey’s family. She’d committed a strategic error by concocting a story that could be so easily checked out.

He stared at the long hair that trailed like a ribbon of blond silk over her shoulders. He felt nothing but contempt for people like Jaida West, who would take advantage of a mother’s grief to make a buck. He’d met his share of con artists before, some of them women, but he had to admit that he’d never before felt this compulsion to watch any of them as they slept.

Jaida’s eyes flickered open; she woke as she always did, slowly and reluctantly. It didn’t seem strange to her sleep-laden mind that her first sight was Trey. It was a logical continuation of her final mental image last night to see him standing there as unyielding as an oak, watching her with his impenetrable gaze. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her so steadily, his mysterious eyes giving nothing away. What had happened to the man to make him guard his emotions so closely, to build that wall of reserve that only a few were allowed to scale?

“You must have fallen asleep before you ate last night.” He indicated a plate of sandwiches on the table before her. Raine had covered them neatly with clear plastic wrap so that Jaida could help herself if she awoke during the night.

For the first time Jaida realized exactly how she must look after sleeping in her clothes. She sat up, one hand attempting to smooth the hair away from her face. He appeared as unruffled as always, although she doubted he’d slept much, if at all. He’d already showered and changed. Although more casually dressed than yesterday, he looked crisp and polished. She was sure she appeared as though she’d spent the past few hours in a clothes dryer. Her mouth felt as if someone had driven a gravel truck through it, and she would have given her right arm for her toothbrush. Her suitcase had been deposited next to the couch, and she eyed it longingly.

“What have you found out about the motel?” she inquired tentatively.

Sheets of ice appeared in his eyes, and inwardly she sighed. Whatever he’d discovered hadn’t improved his opinion of her; that was apparent. And though she felt much more capable of dealing with him today than she had last night, a shower and a change of clothes would go a long way in boosting her confidence still further.

She tensed as he unexpectedly approached the couch. And when he sat down next to her, all her senses sprang to attention. She damned the involuntary reaction, forcing herself to remain still, when her first inclination was to shrink into the corner of the sofa.

“The motel . . . um . . .” Her voice faltered as he lifted a section of her hair from where it lay across the back cushion. Thought momentarily deserted her as he rubbed the strand between his thumb and forefinger. Her voice was breathless when she finally found it again. “Have you uncovered anything yet?”

“We’re working on it,” he murmured. He didn’t look at her, his attention seemingly snared by the rhythmic motion of his fingers. “Where did you say the motel was located?”