Read Into the Whirlwind Online
Authors: Kat Martin
Into the Whirlwind (16 page)
Chapter Nineteen
Sitting at his desk at BOSS, Inc. the following day, Dirk looked up to see Sadie coming down the stairs, curly, white-blond hair flying as she hurried toward him, a mother wolf racing to protect her pup.
He had phoned the office yesterday afternoon, wanting to bring them up to speed before the kidnapping and dramatic rescue of a mother and her son broke on the evening news. He'd spoken to Sadie and Ian, reported what had happened at the lake, and let everyone know he and Luke, Meg and Charlie were safe.
But this was the first time he had been in the office.
Sadie stopped beside his desk and planted her hands on her hips. “Well, you look none the worse for wear, considering you damn near killed yourself trying to save your ex-girlfriend from drowning.”
“I'm fine. So's Luke. I told you that yesterday. I stopped by to see Meg and Charlie at the hospital last night. They're both doing okay. They're being released this morning.”
“Well, that's good news.” Her voice softened. “I'm glad you and Luke were there to save them.”
His chest tightened. He didn't want to think what might have happened if he had refused Meg when she had come to him for help. “Yeah, so am I.”
“Where are you on the case? On the news it said the man who escaped still hasn't been apprehended.”
He shook his head. “As far as I know, they haven't caught him. I'm working with the FBI, Special Agent Ron Nolan. You might remember him from a couple of years back.”
“I remember Nolan. Nice fella. Seemed to know what he was doing.”
“Soon as you're finished playing mother hen, I'm going to call him, see what the feds have come up with.”
Sadie grunted. “Fine. Next time I won't worry about your sorry assâor Luke's either, for that matterâneither of you appreciate my concern.”
Dirk grinned. “You know I love your mothering, sweetness.” Since he didn't have a mother of his own. “I'm sorry I worried you.”
“That's better.” The stout woman turned and headed for the stairs. “Let me know if you need any more help,” she called over her shoulder.
Dirk chuckled. He loved that woman. She really was the mother he'd never had, a far better lady than the one who had left when he was so young he couldn't remember her face.
Leaning back in the black leather chair behind his desk, he picked up his cell phone. The office was modern, done in black and chrome. Ian Brodie, the company's owner, worked upstairs, which was also Sadie's domain. There was a room down the hall from her office where the guys could crash if they got in too late to drive home.
The downstairs was open, no cubicles. The guys weren't the type to be boxed in. A waiting area up front was furnished with a black, butter-soft leather sofa and chairs and a black granite coffee table that matched the rest of the modern decor. In the main area, rows of black-topped desks were provided, one for each of the guys who worked with the company.
Dirk brought up Ron Nolan's number and hit the Send button. “It's Reynolds,” he said when the FBI man answered. “Tell me you busted the a-hole who tried to kill Meg and her boy.”
“I wish to hell I could,” Nolan said. “He's still out there somewhere.”
“I was afraid you'd say that. You gotta have something. What have your guys come up with so far?”
“Not enough, I can tell you. The car was rented under the name Thomas Moore. The O'Brien woman said the kidnapper called himself Thomas, so that fits. Forty years old, born in Upstate New York, went to Columbia University. Yada yada yada. The bad news is, nothing checks out. Thomas Moore is an alias.”
“What about fingerprints? There must have been some in the car or in the boat he drove across the lake.”
“We got prints. The guy isn't in the system.”
“Not AFIS or anywhere else?” There were a number of print recognition systems besides IAFIS, which held the info on seventy million subjects and seventy-three thousand terrorists.
“Nothing so far.”
“DNA?”
“The CSIs might find a hair or something in the car, but it looked pretty clean.”
“What about the security cams at Hertz? Maybe they got a shot of the guy you can run through facial recognition.”
“We're working on it. In case nothing usable turns up, we've asked the O'Brien woman to come in and give us a composite sketch. We'd like you to corroborate, since you both got a good look at the guy.”
“Not a problem.” Not for him. He didn't like Meg being dragged back into this mess. “What about Vincent Santini? The cops have him in custody, right? Picked him up at Luke's place?”
“Santini's in custody. Says he doesn't know squat, and I believe him.”
“What about Pamela Vardon? She must know something.”
“Turns out the skinny dead guy hired her. He also raped her out at the lake. Name's Clifford Sykes. Only been out of jail a couple of months. Pamela's pretty shook up. She never saw Thomas Moore until that morning, and she only got a glimpse of him before he took off in the boat.”
“Who was the big guy? The one in the car with Moore?”
“Maxwell Bremmer. Paramilitary. Called himself Mad Max. Only been here a couple of years. Before that he was somewhere in South America. We don't know where. Haven't been able to figure out how he's connected to this.”
“He was working with Moore. That means you could have a foreign connection of some kind. You're checking Moore's fingerprints with Interpol, right? The guy's a smooth operator. I can see him moving around Europe easy enough. South America wouldn't be a stretch.”
“Running his prints right now, just waiting for the call.”
“So at the moment what you've got is a big fat zero.”
“We got a guy out of surgery at Bellevue Medical Center who knows plenty. We're just waiting for him to wake up.”
“Good ol' Mickey.”
“Michael âMickey' Degan. Two-bit criminal. Got a rap sheet ten pages long.”
Dirk ran his fingers down his mustache. “You said you were bringing Meg in to do a sketch?”
“That's right.”
“What time?”
“She's supposed to call, come in some time this afternoon.”
“I'll have her there at three. Will that work?”
“Sounds good.”
“Thanks for keeping me in the loop, Ron. I run across anything, I'll let you know.”
“I owe you from before. I'll keep you posted as much as I can.” Nolan ended the call.
Dirk had promised to talk to Meg that afternoon. He'd take her down to FBI headquarters. Keeping her busy with the case would be a whole lot easier than talking about what had happened between them.
A helluva lot easier than sifting through the embers of an affair that had died five months ago.
* * *
It was amazing how fast little kids recovered. Or at least that was how it seemed. Meg and Charlie had both been pronounced physically fit and released from the hospital that morning.
Meg's parents had brought them to her house, fussed over them, then finally returned to their own home. Rose had come over, cried, and hugged them, then started cleaning and picking up the house as if it were just another day. Putting things back on an even keel somehow made Meg feel better.
Even Jonathan paid a surprise visit. He'd heard the story on the morning news. He'd been worried sick, he said. He stayed long enough to check on Charlie, talk to him for a couple of minutes, then he headed down to his office. Meg had been surprised to see him at all.
She glanced up at the clock on the wall in the kitchen. It was almost one p.m. Charlie was playing with his toys in the corner of the family room while Meg sat at the kitchen counter, trying not to keep checking the time, wishing Dirk would appear on her porch.
The doorbell rang and her heart jumped. She smoothed the dark blue skinny jeans she was wearing with a pair of open-toed, low-heeled sandals and a silky, off-the-shoulder turquoise blouse, clothes she hoped looked casual yet sexy, and hurried to the door.
Feeling only a niggle of disappointment when she checked the peephole and spotted her best friend, Valerie Hartman, and Val's fiancé, Luke's brother, Ethan, Meg pulled open the door.
Val swept her into a hug. “Oh my God, we just heard! Are you okay? Is Charlie okay? I can't believe you didn't call me!”
Former La Belle model Valentine Hart stood five-foot-nineâan inch shorter than Megâhad honey-blond hair, blue eyes, and an amazing set of dimples. She loved animals, had quit modeling to complete her degree in veterinary medicine.
“We're both okay,” Meg said. “Thanks to Dirk and Luke.”
“You should have called us.” Ethan followed Val into the entry. “I would have come home to help. I hope you know that.”
He was a big man, six-three, two hundred plus pounds of solid muscle, with short black hair and a face that could make a woman swoon. Val had fallen in love with him during the fashion show tour, when he and Dirk had traveled with the show as bodyguards.
“I didn't call because I wanted you to enjoy your time together. You deserved it. I had Dirk's help, and your brother's.”
“Sadie brought me up to speed this morning,” Ethan said. “I called Val and told her.”
“We wanted to make sure you were okay,” Val said. Meg noticed Ethan's big hand resting possessively at her waist as they walked farther into the house.
Val was marrying Ethan. Meg hadn't been strong enough to risk her heart with Dirk. Instead, she had stupidly sent him away.
Charlie looked up and spotted them, dropped his big toy dump truck, grinned, and ran to Val, who bent and scooped him up in her arms.
“Hey, Charlie!”
“Hey, Valentine!” Charlie always called her that. Dirk often did, too. Val never seemed to mind, though it was just a stage name. “Will you play trucks with me?”
“Why don't I play trucks with you?” Ethan suggested. “We'll let your mommy talk to Val, okay?”
“Yes!” Charlie shot his small fist into the air. He was growing up so fast. He loved playing games with Ethan, who had plenty of kid experience since he had a daughter two years older.
Ethan chuckled as Charlie raced him back to his green John Deere tractor, bright red fire engine, and big yellow Caterpillar earth mover in the corner.
“I could use a cup of coffee,” Val said.
“Good idea. I just brewed a pot.”
Val linked arms with her and they headed over to the breakfast counter that opened into the family room. The house had a separate living room that Meg kept nice and neat, but this room was where they mostly lived. A flat-screen TV that usually had a cartoon show playing, toys, and stuffed animals scattered around.
There were plenty of educational books, and Meg had just bought Charlie a Kindle Fire Kid's Edition tablet.
While Meg headed for the coffeepot, Val settled on a stool at the breakfast bar and surveyed the printed sheets scattered on the granite top. “So you're finally looking at real estate listings.”
Rental spaces, possible locations for the boutique she wanted to open. Meg poured a mug of coffee for Val and set it on the counter, then filled one for herself and sat down on the tall wooden stool on the opposite side.
“I would have done it sooner,” Meg said, “but I couldn't decide what kind of store I wanted to open. After what's happened, I think I know.”
Val took a sip of her coffee. “You ready to talk about it?”
It
being the kidnapping that had nearly gotten her and her baby killed.
It
being the kidnapping that had nearly gotten her and her baby killed.
Meg sighed. “I've tried not to think too much about it, but it's probably good to get it out in the open.”
For the next few minutes, Meg filled Val in on the abduction, how Dirk and Luke had tracked the kidnappers to the house at the lake, and how Dirk had saved her and Charlie from drowning.
“Dirk's a good man,” Val said.
“I know that. I've always known that.” The story continued, finished with Meg admitting she'd slept with him. She ended with a simple, “I made a mistake, Val. I want him back.”
“Wow. I didn't see that one coming. You've always been so sure it would never work.”
“I thought it would work for me. I wasn't sure about Charlie. I didn't think it would work for Dirk. I didn't think Dirk was the type for a ready-made family.”
Meg sipped her coffee. “I also figured my parents would never approve, and they're very important to me. Now I realize I should have taken the chance. I should have chosen Dirk over my parents' approval. I should have given us time to figure things out.”
“Okay.” Val looked down at the sheets of paper scattered all over the counter. “So how does the kidnapping and sleeping with Dirk have anything to do with opening a boutique?”
Meg took a sip of her coffee. “I quit modeling because I wanted to be a mom and spend time with my son. It didn't take long to figure out baking cookies for Charlie, playing tennis at Dad's country club, and gabbing on the phone with Mom weren't enough to keep me happy.”
“We talked about that. It was the reason you've been wanting to go back to work.”
“I knew I wanted to open a shop. I knew it had to be about fashion, right? That's what I understand. But not just the latest in sexy lingerie.”
“No, I wouldn't want that either.”
Meg flashed her a look. “Especially after the job nearly got you killed.”
“There is that.”
“Before I married Jonathan, I was athletic, competitive, even daring. I loved to ski and scuba dive. I loved fast cars and even riding motorcycles.”
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