Authors: Cait Jarrod
Kidnapped Hearts (34 page)
“Don’t
have one. It’s your neck. We’re at your disposal,” the Director informed.
“Ambush
them, take care of everyone at once,” Steve suggested.
Good
thought. Jake knew without question, Steve would do whatever is necessary to
protect Pamela.
Kennedy
stood. “I have another case demanding my attention in DC.” Worry lines crossed
his face. “I hate to leave, but I don’t have a choice. Jake, keep me informed.”
Kennedy exited the room.
Jake
stretched his shoulder. A sharp pain stung the area.
“Jake,
Newman’s on line one.”
Jake
crossed the room and punched the button, putting Larry on speakerphone. “You’re
there already?” he asked as he settled into a chair.
“Nope.
Agent
“Steve’s
here. What do you have?”
“There
are two sets of prints in the front seat of the car, another in the back.”
Steve’s
chair scraped against the floor as he pulled it away from the table. “Black
Scorpion?”
“Possibly.”
Larry cleared his throat. “Pamela and Charlene’s purses were in the car. No
cell phone.”
“What
else?”
“There’s
mud on the tires, so it can’t be from 29. We’re looking into it.”
“Keep
me informed.” Jake disconnected and pushed the button on the intercom. “Check
for activity on Pamela Young’s or Charlene Smith’s cell phones.”
A
moment later, she said, “Jake, no traffic since the hospital called Pamela’s
cell.”
“Thanks,
Missy.” He released the button. “Damn.”
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
Soaked
to the bone, Pamela and Charlene huddled close on the floor, trying to keep
warm in the dark cabin. Pamela had never been to the mountains when it poured
this hard. Now, she understood the signs that warned against falling rocks.
With rain this heavy, the whole mountain could wash away.
Her
eyes darted around, looking for any hope of escape, and noticed discoloring on
the back wall of the cabin. A small hole glowed with light.
Was the wood rotting?
The
door squeaked open, and Pamela squinted against the invading sunlight.
“Hello
ladies.” A well-dressed man, wearing a suit and tie, appeared.
“Jameson,”
Charlene whispered.
He
sauntered across the room, then leaned over and lifted Pamela’s chin. “You’re
even prettier than your picture.”
She
groaned and tried to jerk her chin away.
His
grip tightened. “Now, Miss Young, your stepfather has something which belongs
to me. Where is he?”
Another
silhouette appeared in the cabin door, almost filling it. The cabin plunged
back into near darkness.
“You
can make this easy or hard, your choice.” He released Pamela to fiddle with the
cuffs of his sleeve.
Pamela’s
palms began to sweat, and the skin under her cast started to itch.
“I
want the bearer bonds that Wine stole from me.”
“I
don’t know where he is or where the bonds are.” She scooted closer to the wall,
willing herself to become invisible.
“You’re lying!” Jameson bared his teeth,
his nostrils flaring. His calm, cool demeanor had vanished. “Give them up or
Ms. Smith suffers.”
Charlene
cowered. Her arms held her knees tight to her chest, and tears sprung from her
eyes.
Pamela
moved away from the wall and inched in front of Charlene. Her lips trembled.
“Please don’t. I swear I don’t know anything.”
In
a few strides, Guido crossed the room and shoved Pamela out of the way. Her
cast hit the wall with a thud, as he hovered over Charlene.
“You
have one more chance, Miss Young. For Ms. Smith’s sake I hope you use it
wisely,” Jameson declared.
She
opened her mouth, but nothing came out. What was she supposed to do?
A
nod from Jameson and Guido punched Charlene in the face, knocking her head
backwards.
“No!”
Pamela cried.
“Tell
me!” Jameson demanded.
Guido
bent over a crying Charlene and slammed his fist against her jaw.
Pamela
lunged at Guido.
Jameson
grabbed her wrist before she reached him.
She
spun, and her cast clunked Jameson on the head.
He
didn’t even wince.
“That’s
not wise, Miss Young!” Jameson spat, bending her wrist backwards as he
backhanded her. Any second, her wrist would snap. “Now, tell me the truth.” Spit
landed on her cheek.
One
look at Charlene, and Pamela knew she couldn’t take much more. “Jake Gibson has
the bearer bonds.”
Jameson
stiffened and dropped her hand. “You shouldn’t have lied.” He glanced at Guido.
“You know Jake Gibson.”
“The
fucking
Warrior
,” Guido grunted.
Jameson
departed, leaving Guido behind.
Pamela held her breath, praying for Guido
to leave, too.
Instead,
he came at her and belted her in the face, knocking her into the wall.
Jameson
tossed in two bagged sandwiches and two bottles of water. “See, I’m not totally
inhumane.”
He
exited the cabin with Guido at his heels. The sound of the door being bolted
echoed through the small area.
****
Jake studied the lab report Steve handed
him.
“We just received this fax. It’s a little
late, but as we expected, Wine wrote the notes.”
Jake tacked the piece of paper beside the
other information. “We knew Jameson was the missing link, but why did he kidnap
Pamela once Wine was dead?”
“I doubt Jameson knows Pamela doesn’t
have them. Hell, like The Director said, Jameson might not know Wine is dead.”
“He’s using Pamela for leverage.” Jake
scratched his head.
Steve nodded. “Any luck with the cell
phones?”
“No. They’re still off.”
Agent Dennis walked in, carrying food for
everyone, balancing the carryout bag and drink tray with a folder.
Steve and Jake sat across from him at the
conference table.
“I have a file on Charlene Smith.” After
Dennis handed out the sandwiches and coffee, he revealed the contents of the
folder. “Smith owns a café in
five years ago, and then two years ago, her husband left them in debt.”
“We know this.” Jake picked up the papers
Dennis scooted toward him.
“Yes, but what was left off of Lever’s
report was how close Ms. Smith was to losing the café until a month ago when
she came into some money. The source of the money is still under investigation,
but a substantial sum was deposited into her checking account. She received
just enough money to get the café off the foreclosure line.”
“Is Jameson the source?” Steve asked.
“It makes sense now why she would kidnap
Pamela.” Jake rested his head in his hands. He clenched his jaw and pushed away
his emotions. He was no good to her if he started getting soft. He cleared his
throat. “She must have started to refuse his orders, explains why he—”
“Took the boy,” Steve agreed. “That’s one
way to get control over her.”
recently linked to Jameson.”
Their eyebrows rose.
“Jameson has four Black Scorpions who do
his dirty work. Spike, a twenty-six year old Hispanic male, name Jose Lumis. He
has a scar across the right side of his face.”
“Spike’s out of the picture,” Steve
uttered.
“Mort, an African American male, name
Bernard Hayes, age twenty-nine. He’s missing several teeth.”
“He’s alive,” Jake said, grabbing a
sandwich.
“Guido, the acting leader of the Black
Scorpions and close friend of Sanjar’s, a twenty-eight year old white male,
name Thomas Brooks.”
“Alive.” Steve took a bite of food.
“Last, but not least, Jaws.”
“Jaws went down with Spike,” Steve said,
leaning back in his chair.
Agent Dennis barged into the room. “The
local police ID’d Charlene Smith’s Oldsmobile, near
noted the license number, preparing to pull her over when a more urgent call
came in. The mountain is being searched now.”
Jake nodded. “So the car had been moved
when it was found on 29.”
“That’s my thoughts,”
There was finally some hope. Jake rubbed
the back of his neck. “Has there been a ransom on the boy?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Steve stood,
jabbing his hands on his hips. “Jake, do you want a Wine double?”
Dennis shoved back from the table and
leaned back in his chair, his hands folded.
Jake braced his knuckles against the
table and looked at Dennis and Steve. “What are you two thinking?”
“We need to handle
this
ourselves, the four of us. Include Larry.” Steve sat on the
table. “There’s no need to have a lot of agents involved. It’ll just cause more
havoc. The Director would think the same, if it didn’t involve his best
friend’s daughter.”
“I’m IA, guys.” Dennis rose. “I can’t
hear a plot with the intention of disobeying orders.”
Jake and Steve tilted their head, eyeing
the agent.
“Don’t recall receiving any orders to
disobey,” Steve informed.
“Just the same. I’m out of here.” Dennis
left the room.
“Larry’s on one, Jake,” Missy said
through the intercom.
Steve activated the speaker. “Larry, it’s
Steve, Jake is here.”
“Get your asses to Sag Top.”
“Did you locate them?”
“Closing in.”
The phone went silent.
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
“Arrogant
SOB!” Jake snapped on his shoulder holster.
At
an abandoned gas station, Steve and Jake dug into the trunk of Jake’s Chevelle
as Larry pulled in to the parking lot. Pamela, Charlene, and possibly
Charlene’s son were being held on
just minutes away. They loaded up their gear, as they awaited word from Agent
Wilson as to the hostages’ exact location.
“I
can’t believe the audacity of that asshole!” Jake stuffed a gun in the back of
his waistband. “Just who in the hell does Jameson think he is demanding me to
bring him the bonds?”
Larry
smacked Jake on the back. “You know how it is,
Warrior
. Past cases often catch up. Sounds like Jameson is doing
some dirty work for Sanjar and the Black Scorpions.” He checked the bullets in
his ankle holster, then looked to the sky. “Fortunately, the rain stopped.”
“The
chicken shit wouldn’t even call me. He had to call the FBI secretary.” Jake
pulled on his FBI issued raincoat, covering the gear. He stretched his neck and
tugged on his t-shirt, trying to relieve the tension.
“I
don’t like Missy having to talk to men like him,” Larry voiced, sticking a gun
in its holster.
Steve
raised a brow. “Really?”
Larry
slid his arms into his jacket and shot Steve a look. “It’s not like that.”
“Well,
the dumb fuck all but told us his position by using his cell phone.” Jake’s
hands fisted, unaware of the Steve and Larry’s conversation. He met their eyes.
“What?”
Steve
and Larry shook their heads and finished putting their gear on.
“Was
it dumb or a setup?” Steve asked as Jake’s cell beeped.
After
checking ID, Jake answered, “Talk to me.”
“Ms.
Young’s cell signal came from in between two broken down cabins. An old ranger
road leads up to them. You’ll see the road on your right when you round the
bend.”
“Meet
you there.” Jake stowed away his cell. “Let’s roll.”
Jake
climbed behind the wheel and Steve into the backseat. Larry barely closed his
door before Jake spun wheels out of the lot.
“Geez,
Jake,” Larry complained, holding on to the dashboard.
Jake
stared straight ahead, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.
Five
miles and the Chevelle drove up a winding mountain road in four minutes,
pulling beside
Larry hopped out of the car, marched to
car, and climbed in.
