Forever Hidden (Forever Bluegrass #2) (17 page)

“If I can’t find them before then, at least I will—I hope—get to them sometime that night,” Deacon said more to himself than to the two men.

“If that’s the one your gut is telling you to be at, then we should call Ryan. We can hand over all the information on these numbers to the FBI. At least they can make our appointments we have set up for the other numbers and provide back-up for your appointment,” Nabi said as he picked up the phone to call.

While Nabi talked to Ryan, Ahmed pulled Deacon into a separate room. “Did you have to give them your name?”

“I only gave them a first name—Dean—and said I was coming in from Louisiana. I didn’t need to give more since I said I was paying with cash.”

“Good, but just in case, I’m giving you a fake ID. Sit.” Ahmed gestured to the chair against the white sheet hanging from the wall. A camera flashed, and a minute later Deacon stood staring at a Louisiana license so good it could fool a cop with his picture and the name of Dean McCarthy on it.

“The FBI will stake out all the other appointments. They told Ryan that some of them were already on their radar, and they would organize stings to take them all down. They’ll also keep an eye out for Bailey,” Nabi called from the door. “And they’ll work with you on the one where we think Bailey is. Ryan vouched for you, and you’ll meet a contact from the local FBI when you arrive at your hotel to lay out plans for the party they can’t get into. We’ll find her. ”

“Now that we’ve narrowed it down to a few ads, let’s see what else we can find,” Ahmed instructed as they headed back into the main room.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Sydney flopped down on the couch with a tired sigh. She had woken up this morning to find her man and her dog gone. When Bridget called, Syd found the note. Knowing Deacon would be with Nabi and Nash for a while, Sydney decided to head out to Wyatt Estate. That was seven hours ago.

She had put away the dresses Allegra had shipped and then she had gotten down to treasure hunting. Syd had searched every room and found nothing. No little box, no big box, no trunk, no locked cabinet—nothing. Now it was time to prep Deacon for tonight, but he had texted and said he’d meet her at home at five. That only gave them an hour and a half to get ready, get prepped, and get to Grandma Davies’s house.

Sydney groaned as she opened her eyes. There were only two creepy places left that she hadn’t searched—the attic and the basement. Deciding to wait until it was sunny out to do the attic, Sydney pushed herself up and headed for the basement stairs near the kitchen. Like most old houses, the basement had an earthen floor, exposed stone foundation, and thick wood beams with concrete pillars supporting the house above.

There were always critters down there. Spiders, rats, snakes . . . it didn’t matter that every month Critter Capture came in to set traps and clean out the area as best as they could. It still gave her the creeps. Especially since there was only one light dangling from a cord at the bottom of the stairs to light the whole area.

Sydney flicked on the light and stared down at the basement. She turned her phone’s flashlight on and slowly started down the rickety wooden steps as the door closed on its own behind her. She should have propped it open. She didn’t care if she was a grown woman; the basement scared her to death. The light played on the boxes and cast strange shadows where critters could hide. Mysterious cobwebs with no spiders hung in the corners and old metal toys from long ago sat staring out at her from open boxes. Not to mention the spine-chilling draft from the old coal chute that always seemed to be blowing air into the earthy darkness, even though the thick metal door was latched shut.

Sydney stepped onto the pressed-dirt floor and took a fortifying breath. She could do this. Just look for a trunk or something with a lock. She turned to the right and headed for the boxes stacked against the far wall. Cardboard boxes filled with old Christmas lights and a plastic Santa were all she could see. She pushed aside a box and found an old metal trunk. This could be it! Sydney held up her key in one hand and the light in the other. She inserted the key into the lock and sighed. The key was way too small.

Sydney started to stand up when the creaking sound of old hinges froze her in place. She tried to tell herself she was just imagining it, but the goose bumps running down her arms told her otherwise. The sound stopped, and Sydney begged for there not to be a big snake slithering around the old farm equipment. She went to turn when there was the sound of a light bulb shattering and then darkness.

Sydney whirled around with her flashlight just in time to see a black-clad arm snaking out from the darkness to knock her phone from her hand. The phone fell and the light was lost to the dirt floor. The basement was in complete darkness, and she wasn’t alone. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she tried to hear where the other person was.

A strong breeze from behind rippled her hair as the intruder ran his hand behind her. She spun with her hand held out, but he wasn’t there. The only sound as she fumbled, hands outstretched through the darkness, was a soft, taunting laugh that seemed to echo around her.

“What do you want?” Sydney demanded as she struggled to keep the panic at bay.

“I told you I would come for you.” The man’s malicious threat sent Sydney running blindly.

She stumbled in the dark and fell forward. She grasped at the object in front of her and it grasped back.

“Eager to be in my arms again?” He tormented her as he hauled her onto her feet.

“Vic,” Sydney cried as she struggled to pull away.

“I love an enthusiastic partner. Keep fighting, Sydney. I like it rough.” Vic laughed.

Adrenaline and fear caused Sydney’s brain to switch off and her baser instincts to kick in. It was fight-or-flight time, and her body was screaming for her to let loose. She pulled her knee back and plowed it into the region she hoped contained his balls.

Sydney felt her knee connect, and Vic howled in pain. She leaped back as he released her to grab his balls. With a foul curse he lunged at her, but Sydney twirled away when she felt his fingertips against her side and slammed into the back wall. Her hands felt the cool stone and something else. She smiled in the dark as her fingers wrapped around the hilt of some antique farm tool.

Sydney spun around and lashed out with the long tool. It was heavy on the end and could be anything from a shovel to an axe. The thump coming from the darkness as the tool bashed Vic made her baser self smile. She darted away with the tool in front of her as Vic cursed again. Too bad she hadn’t killed him.

The end of the tool thudded against wood and Sydney knew she had found the stairs. With her hand outstretched, she felt the stairs and fled up them. She reached out for the door and found the knob. She flung the door open and then slammed it shut, throwing the old lock on it before dashing to her great-grandfather’s office. Inside was a veritable armory of guns. Granted, most were antiques, but they worked nonetheless.

Sydney didn’t bother looking for the key. She grabbed a small statue from his desk and threw it through the glass doors of the gun case. She reached inside and pulled out a shotgun, searching for the correct shells as she kept an ear open for Vic trying to beat down the basement door.

With shaking hands, Sydney loaded the gun and stuffed some shells into her pocket before lightly stepping her way back to the kitchen. The door was still bolted as she reached for the phone hanging on the wall. She picked it up and dialed 9-1-1 with the shotgun aimed at the door.

“This is Sydney Davies, Sheriff Davies’s daughter. I’m at Wyatt Farm in Keeneston and have been attacked by an intruder who is now locked in the basement,” Sydney stated as clearly as she could while she rattled off the address. “Yes, I’ll stay on the line. And yes, I think I’m safe. I have a shotgun aimed at the basement door.”

Sydney heard the first siren just four minutes later, but it had been the longest four minutes of her life. The front door was hurled open and crashed against the wall as booted steps ran toward her.

“Syd!”

“Matt! I’m in the kitchen,” Sydney called as she hung up with the dispatcher and the Kentucky state trooper rushed into the room.

“Is the perp down there? Did he hurt you?” Matt Walz fired off questions as he looked her over with his gun aimed at the basement door.

“He’s still down there. I’m okay, just shaken up.”

The young trooper nodded his head and moved toward the door. Matt was around her age with dark blond hair and navy blue eyes. Keeneston became divided with Matt’s arrival a few years before. The women under forty called Matt with emergencies. The over-forty crowd called Syd’s father. Her mother found it amusing. Her father was just relieved to no longer be called to fights at the PTA meetings.

“Stay here, I’m going down,” Matt ordered as Sydney heard the sounds of a second set of sirens drawing near.

Matt pulled out his flashlight and unlocked the door. He disappeared slowly down the stairs, and Sydney moved closer to see the beam of light sweeping the basement.

“Sydney!” she heard her father call out as he and Annie sprinted into the kitchen. “Matt?” he asked, nodding toward the open door.

“Yes, he just went down there.”

Her father leaned over and kissed her cheek before pulling out his own flashlight. “Stay with her, Annie. Matt, I’m coming down,” Marshall called down the stairs.

Annie had her gun drawn and looked Sydney over. “You hurt?”

Sydney shook her head. “No. Just scared out of my mind. It was the same man from Atlanta. He found me, and I don’t think he’s going to stop until he has me or he’s dead.”

Two beams of light appeared near the bottom of the stairs and soon she could make out the forms of her father and Matt.

“He’s gone,” her father called out. “It looks like he got in and out from the old coal chute. I’ll call and have that welded shut.”

Matt held out her cell phone. “Did find this, though.”

“Thank you. I don’t know why he’s so fixated on me.” Sydney took her phone and shoved it in her pocket.

“You’ve challenged him by not giving in to him. Men like that want to dominate women. He sees it as a challenge that you fight him. On some level he’s turned on by the chase,” Annie told them as her father ground his teeth together so hard she could hear them.

Her father wrapped his arms around her and pulled her head to his shoulder. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll stay with you until this man’s caught. I won’t leave your side, not for one minute.”

*     *     *

Deacon, Ahmed, and Nabi stared at the agenda they created. It highlighted all the parties Sydney and he were to attend in order to find Bailey. As a fallback, they would rely on the yet-to-be-scheduled appointment. Nabi had created a fake profile and website for
Dean
as well. But that threw a kink in their plans to have Deacon serve as a bodyguard.

The door to the control room opened and Zain angrily stalked in. “Nash is gone? I can’t believe my uncle would do this. I could kill him!”

Nabi shook his head. “Calm down. You just committed treason because of your anger. You are better than this. We’ve taught you how to control your emotions.”

“I’m sorry, but someone berating me, arguing with me, or provoking me is completely different from learning my uncle ordered one of my best friends away during a sting to help protect one of my other friends. And all without a word of goodbye. Now what are Deacon and Sydney going to do without Nash for backup?” Zain asked as he stopped to look at the computer screen.

“I’ll just go it alone. The plan has to change anyway. I think I have an appointment with Bailey under the assumed identity of a rich oil baron. We were just discussing it,” Deacon explained.

Zain let out a frustrated breath. “That’s the real reason I’m here and how I found out about Nash. I got a call from a ‘friend’ that there are going to be some models at this elite party in a suite at the football game. Only the worst of the rich will be there. And if Barrett Bischoff is going to be there, then it’s not going to be good. He’s part of a group with the mindset that money makes you invincible and above the law. They believe life is only about their pleasure, their wants.”

Ahmed looked up at the master list of parties they had learned about. “Which one is it?”

“It’s not on there anywhere. This is a secret, know-the-password, nothing-written-down party. Barrett only told me about it since I’d asked around for some unconventional fun during the game. When he called to see what I meant, I told him I just wanted to get laid and watch a game without all these women expecting to become a princess. I told him I’d pay a fortune for some young girl to, well, you know. And I just did pay a fortune for it. I agreed to bring $50,000 in cash to be able to join this party,” Zain told them with his anger shifting away from his uncle and onto Barrett.

Deacon smiled. “I have an idea. I think your good friend Dean McCarthy, Louisiana oil baron, needs to go with you.”

Nabi shook his head. “No way. I’m not letting someone in line for the crown of Rahmi go to a place where your security is unable to go. No way.”

“But I will have security. I’ll have Deacon. And I have all the training you’ve given me over the years. You know I would have gone into the military had I not been in line for the crown,” Zain argued.

“I don’t like it. Besides, there’s no guarantee Deacon can get in,” Nabi told him.

Deacon watched as Zain whipped out his phone and placed a call. “Barrett, my good friend is coming in tomorrow to visit, and I want to bring him with me.”

Zain paused and then laughed. “Dean McCarthy. He's got his hand in all the oil in Louisiana and the Gulf. He has more money than I do. I’ve partied with him before; he likes them young and good at taking direction, if you catch my drift.” Zain waited and then smiled. “Great. Thanks again; this is exactly what I need. See you then.”

Zain hung up and shot a triumphant smile at Nabi. “Deacon’s in. Apparently you put together a great profile online. Barrett liked the pictures of him with the porn stars.”

“Porn stars?” Deacon asked.

Nabi just smiled. “I had to show you weren’t an angel.”

“Sydney’s father will kill me if he sees that. Speaking of which, I have to get going. I’m going to the Davies dinner tonight.”

The three other men sucked in air. “Don’t mess this up or you won’t be alive to find Bailey,” Ahmed warned.

“It’s just dinner,” Deacon said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Oh, you poor son of a bitch. You have no idea what’s in store for you,” Zain said with a smirk.

“Think how awful waterboarding is,” Nabi said as he fought to find the right words, “then multiply that by 100.”

Deacon didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Were they joking? If not, then he was worried—very, very worried.