Innocent Hostage (19 page)
“Mmmmf.” He rubbed his tongue back and forth across her nipple.
She closed her eyes. Heaven. But she was achy and hot and she wanted him. Sooner. She slithered skin to skin further down the sofa until she reached her goal. And closed her mouth around him.
His whole body jerked. “Ingrid!” It was the plea of a man at the end of his rope. She twitched the condom out of his hand and began to smooth it down over him, but he stayed her hand. “Leave it, honey. Just give me a minute or I won’t last.” He took a deep breath, then to her shock rolled them off the sofa on to the floor and there she was, on top. She understood that even as he fought for control, he was still trying not to crowd her. His hand slipped between her legs and he slid a finger inside. Delicious pressure, but not enough. “More,” she pleaded.
He slid another finger inside her and she simmered. “Breck! You. Inside me. Now.”
“God, yes.” He tugged her closer and nudged at the gate, then raised her a little, settling her down on top of himself, sliding home as if this was a path they’d taken before. “You set the pace,” he muttered between clenched teeth.
Oh, yeah. She pushed up on her elbows, and then plunged. They sighed in unison and Breck whispered, “So, so good. Again…”
But on the next plunge they both unraveled in an uncoordinated upheaval that had them shuddering and gasping. Spread across Breck’s body like a blanket, Ingrid listened to their hearts thundering.
Finally Breck sighed. “Ingrid.”
She raised her head, heavy as an oversize flower on a stalk and looked into his eyes. “Mmm?”
“Nothing. Just ‘Ingrid’.”
“Mmm.” She nodded in understanding.
“That was…” He trailed off.
“Spectacular? Amazing? Incredible?”
He huffed out a laugh and she bounced on top of him. “All that and more.”
Relaxing, they drifted in and out of sleep, draped together. In the kitchen the temperamental freezer ticked and muttered to itself. Footsteps clipped past the door, along the walkway and off into the quiet of the night. Relaxed and sated, Ingrid dreamed and listened to the quiet.
The intrusion of her ringing cell phone was shocking. Her heart jolted as she scrambled off the sofa. After midnight! Nobody
ever
rang her this late. Her mother? Was her mother ill?
“I’ll get it for you. Just sit there.” Breck was already halfway across the room. He snagged her phone and tossed it to her.
“Ingrid Rowland.”
“Trident Security. Ms. Rowland, the alarms at your school have been set off. We’re on our way. Do you want to meet us there?”
“Oh those
damned
alarms!” she exclaimed. “Probably another false alert. Thank you. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Meet who where?” Breck asked.
“Those stupid alarms at the school are sounding again. Someone from Trident Security is on his way.”
“I’m coming.” He began dragging on his clothes. “Have to bring Kit but he’ll sleep through it. He sleeps like a grave digger on double shifts.”
They bundled Kit up in his bedclothes and rushed out the door.
Ingrid was really, really pissed off. She had been having the best night of her life with the man she’d wanted for so long, and those dumb, faulty alarms had stuffed everything up. Tomorrow she’d have them pulled out and she’d replace them with another brand. She’d bill her so-called security service provider for the lot. Enough was enough.
As they pulled up in the preschool carpark, the alarms beat a screaming pattern on the cold night air. A car with the logo of Trident Security on it was already parked in front of the main doors. Ingrid jumped out of the SUV cursing under her breath, but when she reached the foyer, all thoughts of firing Trident Security fled.
Shards of glass crunched beneath her feet and there was a great yawning hole in one of the small side windows. The larger one with safety glass was still intact. If whoever it was had managed to squeeze in through the small window then they must be very small. Kids perhaps? For once the damn security alarms were right.
“Kids,” the security guard’s voice said behind her.
“Looks like.” Ingrid unlocked the door and reached inside to turn off the screaming alarm.
“Don’t go inside, Ingrid,” Breck’s voice warned. “There’s something wrong. I don’t think it’s kids.”
Ingrid turned towards him and out of the corner of her eye saw a shadow slip past the entrance to the parking lot. “There’s somebody out there!” she whispered.
Before she’d finished speaking, Breck was racing across the lot. The security officer brushed past Ingrid and took off after him.
Her heart in her throat, Ingrid walked quickly back to the SUV. The parking lot was lit up like a runway by the security lights, but beyond that was only blackness. Breck and the security officer disappeared into the darkness and she and Kit were alone.
He ratcheted up his speed, careless of a sprained ankle or worse. This time he’d catch whoever was playing games with them.
Thud. Thud. He was getting closer. His quarry was gasping with labored breaths. And he was no teenage vandal. The footfalls were solid, heavy, those of a full-grown man.
Far off to the right a scream ripped the air. Ingrid.
“Breck!”
Without a qualm he abandoned the chase, leaving it up to the security guard. Switching direction, he pounded back towards the parking lot. He burst out of the darkness into the light and for a second was blinded. Then he heard the sounds of scrabbling feet kicking up pebbles. “Bitch!” someone screamed, and a shadowy figure raced away from his SUV into the darkness beyond.
“Ingrid?” He wrenched open the car door. Nobody inside. Oh, God. “Kit?”
“Daddy?” Kit flung himself at Breck so hard, it felt as if someone had punched Breck in the gut. Grabbing his father’s hand, Kit urged him to “Hurry, Daddy. Hurry. Ingrid’s hurt. Mommy hit her and hit her and—” He rushed around to the front wheel of the SUV, tugging Breck towards where Ingrid lay huddled on the ground. She looked like a bundle of old clothes someone had tossed away.
“Oh, no.” His heart in his throat, Breck knelt beside her, trying to feel for her pulse. The second he touched her she hauled off and tried to slug him. “Ingrid. It’s me. Breck. Sssh.”
“Mmph.” Her hand slid away and her head drooped, but not before he’d seen the massive welt on the side of her face. And the blood on her knuckles.
“Oh, Ingrid.” He tried to gather her into his arms but she resisted.
“Hurts,” she muttered.
“What the hell happened?”
Kit piped up. “It was Mommy. She came running up and pulled me out of the car. But Ingrid stopped her.” He, too, knelt down and laid his chin on the back of Ingrid’s neck. “It’s all right, Ingrid. Daddy’s here now.”
“Let me see, Ingrid. I need to know how badly you’re hurt.”
Reluctantly she unfolded herself and tried to sit up.
Breck sucked in his breath. “Your
mother
did this, Kit? Are you sure?”
Kit nodded.
There was a huge welt across Ingrid’s cheek that would blossom into a bruise by tomorrow. But Breck was more concerned about the mess of matted hair on Ingrid’s scalp. It looked as though someone had bashed her with a rock. He swallowed his fear and glanced around, looking for the security officer. Nowhere to be seen. Wrapping his arm around Ingrid, he whispered, “Lean against me, sweetie.”
She sighed and relaxed against him, wincing. God, she must have other injuries as well.
“Kit, get my phone.”
Kit tugged the cell phone out of Breck’s pocket and held it out.
****
Fifteen minutes later, the carpark was swarming with cops. Hull lost no time in fanning out his team around the perimeter. An ambulance sat just outside the circle of crime scene tape waiting to tend to Ingrid. So far she’d refused to be treated until she’d had a look at the damage done to her school. Kit sat, wide-eyed, watching the strobe lights on the police cars and the ambulance.
Ingrid, her hand in Breck’s, waited for the go-ahead to return inside the building. Her head alternately pounded and ached, but it was important to see if the school could stay open. If not, she had many phone calls to make in a very short time.
“What time is it?” she mumbled.
Breck moved a little to check his watch. “Nearly 1:30.”
“Okay, Ms. Rowland. We’ve cleared it so you can see where the intruders got in and what they did. But you must stand where I stand. Do you think you’re well enough to do that?” Tony Hull was solicitous but firm.
“Lead on, MacDuff,” Ingrid said as Breck eased her to her feet.
But when she saw what had happened to her lovely, lovely preschool, fury boiled up inside her. If this was the doing of that maniacal Tania Kerr, she’d hunt that rabid woman down and wring her neck.
The walls of the foyer were sprayed with the message “Warned you, bitch” in several places. In the main room adjoining the foyer someone had attempted to light a fire, but it had burned itself out. Just as well. Jars of paints and colored glues were kept in one corner and although supposedly not flammable, they would have added fuel to the piles of paper and books that had been stacked in the middle of the room.
Ingrid stood in the center of it all like Dido amid the ruins of Athens and turned in a circle. Slowly. Her head pounded and graunched, and her stomach heaved. She didn’t know if that was from the bash on the head or the awful thought that she was faced with a phenomenal amount of work to get the school back up and running. What if she couldn’t contact all the parents before nine a.m.? How could some of those people make alternate arrangements on such short notice? Sure, the foyer could easily be painted and if she started right now, it might be finished but still sticky at nine a.m. But where was she to buy paint at one o’clock in the morning?
In the center of the floor in the main room a huge hole yawned. No safety inspector would allow children in that room. And they only had another small room that doubled as a computer room. They couldn’t all fit in there.
She followed Hull around the edge of the main room into the storeroom. This was where the paper had come from to start the fire, but the intruders had left most of the room’s contents in their neatly stacked piles on the shelves. And when the bathrooms were checked, they looked intact.
“Only bothered with the main rooms,” Hull commented. “But the question as far as I’m concerned, Miss Rowland, is what does that writing mean? ‘Warned you, bitch’?”
“Detective, I wish I knew. The night before last I got a phone call in the middle of the night—”
“Marchant told me. But you don’t know if it’s a disgruntled parent or because you’re er…associating with him.”
“That’s right.”
Hull stared at her for a moment, reminding her of Breck when he was considering a ticklish problem.
“This whole thing keeps revolving around Tania Kerr. What the hell is she up to?”
“Sir!” A constable crunched over the parking lot and stopped when he reached the crime scene tape. “We’ve found someone.”
Ingrid and Hull stepped outside the main door and Hull held up the tape so Ingrid could squeeze underneath it. As she ducked down, her head pounded and she staggered. She would have fallen if Hull hadn’t grasped her arm. “Thank you,” she muttered. As she straightened up, Breck strode towards her.
“Sit down, for God’s sake, and let the paramedics look at you.”
The constable was consulting with Hull in a low voice.
“In a minute, Breck. They’ve found someone.” She turned to Hull. “Who is it? Is it the person who vandalized the school? Is it Tania?”
Hull looked first at Ingrid, then at Breck. “I’m afraid he’s not in a condition to tell us anything. He was hit over the head the same as you were, but he didn’t get off so lightly. The paramedics are going to be very busy.” With the constable leading the way, Hull strode off towards the bush area where Breck had seen the man the day before.
Breck steered Ingrid towards the ambulance. “I’ll find out everything from Tony after you’ve been seen to.”
He hovered between the ambulance and his SUV, trying to keep an eye on Kit and another one on her. Ingrid admitted to herself that it felt good to have someone concerned about her. It had been a long while since someone had worried about her for her own sake. Of course her mother wouldn’t like to see her harmed, but she would not be impressed at the undignified picture Ingrid made with blood seeping down over her cheekbone and her sweater torn and muddy. Ingrid was sure that Marla would look neat and tidy on her deathbed. She must be weak or upset or something, because she said as much to Breck.
“Your mother is a neat freak?”
“Well, it’s more that she thinks females should always behave in a ladylike manner.” She paused and hissed as the paramedic swabbed her head wound.
She closed her eyes. Heaven. But she was achy and hot and she wanted him. Sooner. She slithered skin to skin further down the sofa until she reached her goal. And closed her mouth around him.
His whole body jerked. “Ingrid!” It was the plea of a man at the end of his rope. She twitched the condom out of his hand and began to smooth it down over him, but he stayed her hand. “Leave it, honey. Just give me a minute or I won’t last.” He took a deep breath, then to her shock rolled them off the sofa on to the floor and there she was, on top. She understood that even as he fought for control, he was still trying not to crowd her. His hand slipped between her legs and he slid a finger inside. Delicious pressure, but not enough. “More,” she pleaded.
He slid another finger inside her and she simmered. “Breck! You. Inside me. Now.”
“God, yes.” He tugged her closer and nudged at the gate, then raised her a little, settling her down on top of himself, sliding home as if this was a path they’d taken before. “You set the pace,” he muttered between clenched teeth.
Oh, yeah. She pushed up on her elbows, and then plunged. They sighed in unison and Breck whispered, “So, so good. Again…”
But on the next plunge they both unraveled in an uncoordinated upheaval that had them shuddering and gasping. Spread across Breck’s body like a blanket, Ingrid listened to their hearts thundering.
Finally Breck sighed. “Ingrid.”
She raised her head, heavy as an oversize flower on a stalk and looked into his eyes. “Mmm?”
“Nothing. Just ‘Ingrid’.”
“Mmm.” She nodded in understanding.
“That was…” He trailed off.
“Spectacular? Amazing? Incredible?”
He huffed out a laugh and she bounced on top of him. “All that and more.”
Relaxing, they drifted in and out of sleep, draped together. In the kitchen the temperamental freezer ticked and muttered to itself. Footsteps clipped past the door, along the walkway and off into the quiet of the night. Relaxed and sated, Ingrid dreamed and listened to the quiet.
The intrusion of her ringing cell phone was shocking. Her heart jolted as she scrambled off the sofa. After midnight! Nobody
ever
rang her this late. Her mother? Was her mother ill?
“I’ll get it for you. Just sit there.” Breck was already halfway across the room. He snagged her phone and tossed it to her.
“Ingrid Rowland.”
“Trident Security. Ms. Rowland, the alarms at your school have been set off. We’re on our way. Do you want to meet us there?”
“Oh those
damned
alarms!” she exclaimed. “Probably another false alert. Thank you. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Meet who where?” Breck asked.
“Those stupid alarms at the school are sounding again. Someone from Trident Security is on his way.”
“I’m coming.” He began dragging on his clothes. “Have to bring Kit but he’ll sleep through it. He sleeps like a grave digger on double shifts.”
They bundled Kit up in his bedclothes and rushed out the door.
Ingrid was really, really pissed off. She had been having the best night of her life with the man she’d wanted for so long, and those dumb, faulty alarms had stuffed everything up. Tomorrow she’d have them pulled out and she’d replace them with another brand. She’d bill her so-called security service provider for the lot. Enough was enough.
As they pulled up in the preschool carpark, the alarms beat a screaming pattern on the cold night air. A car with the logo of Trident Security on it was already parked in front of the main doors. Ingrid jumped out of the SUV cursing under her breath, but when she reached the foyer, all thoughts of firing Trident Security fled.
Shards of glass crunched beneath her feet and there was a great yawning hole in one of the small side windows. The larger one with safety glass was still intact. If whoever it was had managed to squeeze in through the small window then they must be very small. Kids perhaps? For once the damn security alarms were right.
“Kids,” the security guard’s voice said behind her.
“Looks like.” Ingrid unlocked the door and reached inside to turn off the screaming alarm.
“Don’t go inside, Ingrid,” Breck’s voice warned. “There’s something wrong. I don’t think it’s kids.”
Ingrid turned towards him and out of the corner of her eye saw a shadow slip past the entrance to the parking lot. “There’s somebody out there!” she whispered.
Before she’d finished speaking, Breck was racing across the lot. The security officer brushed past Ingrid and took off after him.
Her heart in her throat, Ingrid walked quickly back to the SUV. The parking lot was lit up like a runway by the security lights, but beyond that was only blackness. Breck and the security officer disappeared into the darkness and she and Kit were alone.
Chapter Nineteen
He ratcheted up his speed, careless of a sprained ankle or worse. This time he’d catch whoever was playing games with them.
Thud. Thud. He was getting closer. His quarry was gasping with labored breaths. And he was no teenage vandal. The footfalls were solid, heavy, those of a full-grown man.
Far off to the right a scream ripped the air. Ingrid.
“Breck!”
Without a qualm he abandoned the chase, leaving it up to the security guard. Switching direction, he pounded back towards the parking lot. He burst out of the darkness into the light and for a second was blinded. Then he heard the sounds of scrabbling feet kicking up pebbles. “Bitch!” someone screamed, and a shadowy figure raced away from his SUV into the darkness beyond.
“Ingrid?” He wrenched open the car door. Nobody inside. Oh, God. “Kit?”
“Daddy?” Kit flung himself at Breck so hard, it felt as if someone had punched Breck in the gut. Grabbing his father’s hand, Kit urged him to “Hurry, Daddy. Hurry. Ingrid’s hurt. Mommy hit her and hit her and—” He rushed around to the front wheel of the SUV, tugging Breck towards where Ingrid lay huddled on the ground. She looked like a bundle of old clothes someone had tossed away.
“Oh, no.” His heart in his throat, Breck knelt beside her, trying to feel for her pulse. The second he touched her she hauled off and tried to slug him. “Ingrid. It’s me. Breck. Sssh.”
“Mmph.” Her hand slid away and her head drooped, but not before he’d seen the massive welt on the side of her face. And the blood on her knuckles.
“Oh, Ingrid.” He tried to gather her into his arms but she resisted.
“Hurts,” she muttered.
“What the hell happened?”
Kit piped up. “It was Mommy. She came running up and pulled me out of the car. But Ingrid stopped her.” He, too, knelt down and laid his chin on the back of Ingrid’s neck. “It’s all right, Ingrid. Daddy’s here now.”
“Let me see, Ingrid. I need to know how badly you’re hurt.”
Reluctantly she unfolded herself and tried to sit up.
Breck sucked in his breath. “Your
mother
did this, Kit? Are you sure?”
Kit nodded.
There was a huge welt across Ingrid’s cheek that would blossom into a bruise by tomorrow. But Breck was more concerned about the mess of matted hair on Ingrid’s scalp. It looked as though someone had bashed her with a rock. He swallowed his fear and glanced around, looking for the security officer. Nowhere to be seen. Wrapping his arm around Ingrid, he whispered, “Lean against me, sweetie.”
She sighed and relaxed against him, wincing. God, she must have other injuries as well.
“Kit, get my phone.”
Kit tugged the cell phone out of Breck’s pocket and held it out.
****
Fifteen minutes later, the carpark was swarming with cops. Hull lost no time in fanning out his team around the perimeter. An ambulance sat just outside the circle of crime scene tape waiting to tend to Ingrid. So far she’d refused to be treated until she’d had a look at the damage done to her school. Kit sat, wide-eyed, watching the strobe lights on the police cars and the ambulance.
Ingrid, her hand in Breck’s, waited for the go-ahead to return inside the building. Her head alternately pounded and ached, but it was important to see if the school could stay open. If not, she had many phone calls to make in a very short time.
“What time is it?” she mumbled.
Breck moved a little to check his watch. “Nearly 1:30.”
“Okay, Ms. Rowland. We’ve cleared it so you can see where the intruders got in and what they did. But you must stand where I stand. Do you think you’re well enough to do that?” Tony Hull was solicitous but firm.
“Lead on, MacDuff,” Ingrid said as Breck eased her to her feet.
But when she saw what had happened to her lovely, lovely preschool, fury boiled up inside her. If this was the doing of that maniacal Tania Kerr, she’d hunt that rabid woman down and wring her neck.
The walls of the foyer were sprayed with the message “Warned you, bitch” in several places. In the main room adjoining the foyer someone had attempted to light a fire, but it had burned itself out. Just as well. Jars of paints and colored glues were kept in one corner and although supposedly not flammable, they would have added fuel to the piles of paper and books that had been stacked in the middle of the room.
Ingrid stood in the center of it all like Dido amid the ruins of Athens and turned in a circle. Slowly. Her head pounded and graunched, and her stomach heaved. She didn’t know if that was from the bash on the head or the awful thought that she was faced with a phenomenal amount of work to get the school back up and running. What if she couldn’t contact all the parents before nine a.m.? How could some of those people make alternate arrangements on such short notice? Sure, the foyer could easily be painted and if she started right now, it might be finished but still sticky at nine a.m. But where was she to buy paint at one o’clock in the morning?
In the center of the floor in the main room a huge hole yawned. No safety inspector would allow children in that room. And they only had another small room that doubled as a computer room. They couldn’t all fit in there.
She followed Hull around the edge of the main room into the storeroom. This was where the paper had come from to start the fire, but the intruders had left most of the room’s contents in their neatly stacked piles on the shelves. And when the bathrooms were checked, they looked intact.
“Only bothered with the main rooms,” Hull commented. “But the question as far as I’m concerned, Miss Rowland, is what does that writing mean? ‘Warned you, bitch’?”
“Detective, I wish I knew. The night before last I got a phone call in the middle of the night—”
“Marchant told me. But you don’t know if it’s a disgruntled parent or because you’re er…associating with him.”
“That’s right.”
Hull stared at her for a moment, reminding her of Breck when he was considering a ticklish problem.
“This whole thing keeps revolving around Tania Kerr. What the hell is she up to?”
“Sir!” A constable crunched over the parking lot and stopped when he reached the crime scene tape. “We’ve found someone.”
Ingrid and Hull stepped outside the main door and Hull held up the tape so Ingrid could squeeze underneath it. As she ducked down, her head pounded and she staggered. She would have fallen if Hull hadn’t grasped her arm. “Thank you,” she muttered. As she straightened up, Breck strode towards her.
“Sit down, for God’s sake, and let the paramedics look at you.”
The constable was consulting with Hull in a low voice.
“In a minute, Breck. They’ve found someone.” She turned to Hull. “Who is it? Is it the person who vandalized the school? Is it Tania?”
Hull looked first at Ingrid, then at Breck. “I’m afraid he’s not in a condition to tell us anything. He was hit over the head the same as you were, but he didn’t get off so lightly. The paramedics are going to be very busy.” With the constable leading the way, Hull strode off towards the bush area where Breck had seen the man the day before.
Breck steered Ingrid towards the ambulance. “I’ll find out everything from Tony after you’ve been seen to.”
He hovered between the ambulance and his SUV, trying to keep an eye on Kit and another one on her. Ingrid admitted to herself that it felt good to have someone concerned about her. It had been a long while since someone had worried about her for her own sake. Of course her mother wouldn’t like to see her harmed, but she would not be impressed at the undignified picture Ingrid made with blood seeping down over her cheekbone and her sweater torn and muddy. Ingrid was sure that Marla would look neat and tidy on her deathbed. She must be weak or upset or something, because she said as much to Breck.
“Your mother is a neat freak?”
“Well, it’s more that she thinks females should always behave in a ladylike manner.” She paused and hissed as the paramedic swabbed her head wound.
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