F-Stop (8 page)

Kat curled her hands around her coffee mug once again, willing herself to a calmness she didn’t feel as Mark spoke into his phone. Mike sat down next to her and almost casually draped his arm across the back of her chair, his hand lightly squeezing her shoulder. Just from that tiny contact his warmth and assurance seeped into her.

When she turned her head to look at him, he said in a low voice, “Things will be fine.

We’ll take care of it.”

And somehow she knew he would.

“Okay.” Mark looked at everyone. “Pelley says he didn’t expect to hear from his boss until sometime today. He’s got Rand Prescott’s number at his office and all the rest of the information he might need. Apparently Prescott and Eli Wright have partnered on some projects. Pelley also said he’d check on the security detail who were supposed to be watching the Wright party while they were in San Diego. He expects to be there in about thirty minutes.”

“Is there anyone else who might know what’s going on?” Kat was sure the only reason her voice was so steady was because of Mike’s presence and his reassuring touch.

Mark nodded and began punching in more numbers. “I’m calling Ryan Post, Sydney Wright’s brother. Pelley didn’t mention him but Andy got all his numbers, including the office he has for the string of spas he owns.” Faith raised an eyebrow. “Spas?”

Mark shrugged. “To each his own. Yeah, Mr. Post? This is Mark Halloran of the Phoenix Agency. Sorry if I woke you. I’m a little worried about your sister and her family and I’m hoping you can put my mind at rest.”

Again they all listened to the one-sided conversation, Kat strung as taut as a bow, waiting for whatever answer Mark might be able to get. But when he disconnected he just shook his head.

“He has no idea either. He’s leaving for his office right now and he said he’ll do what he can to try tracking them down. I gave him my cell but I think we should check on him after we see Pelley.”

“Don’t these people keep phone numbers with them?” Faith asked. “You guys never go anywhere without a list a mile long.”

Mark shrugged. “Everyone operates differently. And Ryan Post may not be on the best terms with his sister. Andy says a couple of stories he found hinted there was some kind of bad blood there.”

“Wonderful,” Mike grunted.

“What kind of bad blood?” Faith wanted to know.

“The articles he found mostly had to do with their parents’ estate,” Mike told her.

“He found one article written about the time they were killed in a plane crash.

Apparently they left a sizable estate. The other one was a year later, something about final disposition of the assets.”

Faith made a sound of disgust. “Nothing like a few bucks to bring out the worst in people.”

“I can’t believe a man like Eli Wright would go off with his family and not tell people how to contact him,” Kat cried. “He runs a multibillion-dollar business, for god’s sake.”

“He’d leave that information at the office,” Mike reminded her. “And we’re calling Pelley there in a few minutes.”

“What about trying someone at San Diego?” Faith suggested. “If they stopped there for lunch and refueling, someone might know what’s going on.” She looked at Kat.

“And if you saw something you didn’t like in your session, we really need to find out what’s going on there.”

“Agreed.” Mike pulled out his cell and stood up. “I’m going to call the airport there. Most private planes use a small one that’s better equipped to handle them. It’s like a little club so if anyone knows anything, they’ll tell me.” He walked into the living room, murmuring softly into the phone, Kat following him with her eyes.

Faith touched her arm. “If anyone can find out what’s happening it’s Mike. He’s like a bulldog.”

“She’s right,” Mark agreed. “The only one I know more determined about anything is my wife. If it hadn’t been for her I might be rotting away in a Peruvian jungle, or worse yet, dead.”

They exchanged a look so intimate Kat felt as if she was peeking through someone’s curtains and she had to turn her eyes away. She wanted that so badly with someone.

Once she thought she might have had it with Mike. Was it possible for them to go back and pick up the pieces? She badly wanted to believe what he’d said last night.

“Tell me a little bit about remote viewing.” Faith’s words broke into her mental wanderings. “I know very little about it.”

Glad for the momentary distraction, Kat gave her the simplest explanation she could. And only because Faith had a psychic gift herself did she feel comfortable revealing so much about herself and what she could do.

“When I met with your aunt yesterday,” she added, “it was to find some help. Or answers. My psychic power has been wavering and I’m always afraid it will fail me at exactly the wrong moment.”

“And did she tell you that, everything else aside, stress can be the single most complicating factor?”

“Yes, she did.”

Mark studied her expression. “And is there something that’s been going on with you to stress you out?”

Kat definitely wasn’t ready to discuss Brent, with him or anyone else.

And thank you, Brent Fontaine, for so thoroughly screwing up not just my life but my
mind.

Maybe if he’d quit calling her she could stick him in a mental corner for as long as she needed to.

Faith reached for Mark’s hand.

“I had to completely focus when we were hunting for Mark. Our psychic link was the only thing we had to go on so I couldn’t afford to let it weaken.” Mark nodded in agreement. “Same here. I know you’re very worried about your sister but you know yourself this is the time you need to be the strongest.”

“I know. I just—”

“Okay. Got something.”

Mike’s voice as he walked back into the kitchen interrupted whatever she’d been about to say. Her heart did a little stutter step and her stomach knotted. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, almost afraid to ask the question.

“Good news or bad?” Mike sat down next to her.

“Neither. I got the same message from the day manager at the terminal that you did, Kat. So the plane is still in San Diego but we have no clue as to where the Wrights and Mari are.”

“But that’s absurd.” Kat jerked so hard her coffee sloshed over her hand. She blotted it absently. “Eli Wright has a business meeting in Waikiki today that Mari said is very important. He wouldn’t just blow it off.” She tossed the wet napkin onto the table.

“Besides, if that was the case, Mari would have called to tell me about it.” Mike was nodding his head. “Exactly what I thought. And the manager wouldn’t be able to tell if the call came from the real pilot or not.”

“Oh my god.” Mike had covered her hand with his and while she liked the feeling of comfort, she wasn’t ready yet to send signals to other people that might be misread.

Still, she couldn’t deny the feeling of comfort it gave her. Damn it all, anyway. Why didn’t things ever happen at a convenient time? Carefully she retrieved her hand. “Now I
know
something terrible has happened.”

“Let’s see what we can find out from Hawaii too,” Mark put in. “Maybe the housekeeper has heard from someone by now. If the Wrights really postponed this, they’d make the call and change their arrival time.”

Mike looked at his watch. “Pelley should have reached his office by now. I’d rather talk to him face-to-face. People can hide a lot over the phone. After that we’ll track down the brother.” His gaze traveled to Mark. “Then I think we need to take a trip to San Diego.”

“What do you think happened?” Kat asked, realizing how stupid the question was even as she asked it.

“I don’t know yet, kitten. But whatever it is, we’ll take care of it.” And despite the others in the kitchen watching them, he tipped up her face and kissed her, hard and deep.

When they had all been hustled onto the plane, Eli heard the men speaking angrily in Spanish and wished he’d spent more time learning it. The voices rose and fell, then someone stomped through the plane. Eli felt the prick of a needle as he was injected with something. At once he felt dizzy and thick-tongued.

“What did you give me?” he demanded. “What’s going on?”

“A minor delay,” his captor said. “Our travel arrangements have been changed slightly. We want to make sure you all get a good night’s sleep while we’re waiting.”

“Where are my pilots? Did you kill them too?”

He chuckled, a sound Eli heard as pure evil. “No,
Señor
Wright. They are sleeping soundly in a motel room and by the time they wake up in twenty-four hours, they will be fully rested.”

Although the engines didn’t fire up, the plane began to move and Eli assumed they were being towed but before the rolling motion stopped, he passed out, the drug taking its effect.

Eli was the first to awake, having no idea what time of day or night it was. Shortly they were all roused, blindfolded and led off the plane one by one to use the lavatory.

As dark as the hangar was he still had no time orientation and he didn’t think their captors were into answering questions. Immediately after they were marched back to the plane, the stairs were rolled up, the door locked and the hangar door rolled up. As the plane was towed out sunlight flooded through the small windows. So. They’d been drugged sufficiently to sleep through the night.

The engines ground to life, the plane roared down the runway and lifted off into the morning sky. The ride was fairly short, about an hour, Eli calculated since he couldn’t see his watch. Immediately after takeoff the curtains were pulled down over the windows so he couldn’t get any kind of geographic fix. Thankfully the women had fallen asleep again, although he hoped whoever administered the drug hadn’t gotten carried away with the dosage. He guessed his tolerance level was a lot higher than Sydney’s or Mari’s. Maybe muscle mass had something to do with it.

He was pretty sure they were leaving the United States. It would be too much to hope for that they weren’t being taken to a foreign country, where police accessibility and protection would be pretty much nonexistent. He knew the governments operated on the payoff system. And Mexico had to be the worst.

He still had no idea who had kidnapped them, or even who would have ordered it.

The snatch was so well-planned he had a hard time believing it had been random. Like everyone else who watched the news and did business outside the United States, he was well aware of the rapid increase of kidnappings, where the victims were taken across the border. But in each case the person had been identified ahead of time, to be sure the money was available for a big payoff.

So who had wanted him taken? Of all the people he knew, who was going to benefit from this?

He was also deathly afraid that since they’d seen the faces of the kidnappers, they wouldn’t be allowed to live to identify them. Unless they were so untouchable they didn’t care.

While he was still turning possibilities over in his mind, the plane reduced its speed and finally landed, the few bumps jarring his body. One of the men came back to the cabin carrying something in his hands.

“Time to move,” he said.

He slipped a black hood over Eli’s face. He tied it loosely at the neck, allowing for air since there were no cutouts for breathing.

“I’m going to wake the women,” he went on in his accented voice. “If they put up a fuss, I hope you will convince them it is in their best interest to keep quiet. If I have to, I’ll put them to sleep again.”

No! He didn’t want any more drugs in their veins.

“I’ll tell them.” His voice was muffled now and he hoped his words would come through.

He heard the man talking to his wife and daughter and to Mari, waking them and telling them they were leaving the plane.

“You would do well to behave,” Eli heard him say. “It would be a shame if I had to hurt you in any way.”

Eli heard the pleasure of anticipation in his voice, as if daring one of them to provoke him.

“What’s going on?” This was Sydney. “”Where are we? Who are you?”

“Mom?” That was Lissa, the alarm evident in her tone. “Dad? What’s going on?

Hey! Don’t you touch me.”

There was a slight sound of scuffling, as if Lissa was trying to move away from the man.

“It’s okay, Lissa,” Eli said, hoping he conveyed more assurance than he felt. And hoping they heard him through the fabric of the hood. “All of you, please just do what he says.”

“Dad, what’s this all about?” He heard the controlled panic in Lissa’s words. “I heard an explosion when they grabbed us. What was it? What happened?”

“Just do what you’re told,” he repeated. “People will be looking for us when we don’t arrive in Hawaii.”

The man with the malevolent laugh chuckled again. “They may look,
señor,
but I doubt if anyone will find you.”

That was all anyone said to them until the door was opened and the stairway lowered. Then rough hands hustled them off the plane and into another vehicle—one that Eli thought was another van— and they began moving over a very bumpy road.

“Just do what they tell us,” he told the women again. “Don’t antagonize anyone.

We’ll figure out what to do.”

This time more than one person laughed, then one man snapped an order at them.

“Shut up. No talking. Just shut up.”

“Why did you keep us in the plane overnight?” Eli asked, knowing he was probably irritating his captors but trying to extract every bit of information he could.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but the controller we work with at the airfield had an emergency and switched shifts. An inconvenience that cockroach will pay for.” So. They had to wait until friendly eyes cleared them for takeoff. Eli filed that away for the future. He tried to concentrate on feeling the nuances of the ride—the bumpy road, the feeling of going up, the blazing heat coming in through the windows that the feeble air conditioning couldn’t do much to abate.

At last the vehicle stopped, doors were slammed open and they were all pulled roughly outside.

“Walk,” the man gripping his arms said.

Eli managed the best he could with his ankles hobbled. He heard a door open, more low conversations in Spanish, then he felt himself thrown on the ground, his face pressing against what felt like dirt through the hood.