Pitch Black: A Romantic Thriller (Blackwood Security Book 1) (26 page)

The plus point of those scenarios was that Tia would most likely be alive, and she’d remain that way until the kidnapper achieved their goal.

What worried me most was the slim chance she’d been taken because of me. What if one of my team had started looking into my husband’s murder and trodden on someone’s toes? Had I been traced here? I thought I’d taken enough precautions to stay hidden, but what if I’d screwed up? The people who took out my husband had access to weapons and didn’t hesitate to kill. If they had Tia and she was still alive, she wouldn’t have long.

That thought was at the forefront of my mind as I walked back to the house. Luke was pacing the hallway as I came through the door.

“Anything?” he asked.

“No. You?”

“Nothing.”

I hadn’t really been expecting any other answer.

“Luke, I need to talk to you,” I started, but the ping of an incoming text message interrupted me.

Luke snatched his phone out his pocket. “Thank goodness, it’s from Tia. She probably wants me to pick her up from somewhere.”

Time seemed to slow as the colour drained out of his face.

“What does it say?” I asked, not that I needed to.

His hand shook as he handed the phone over. The picture on screen was Tia, bound and gagged, lying on a grubby floor. Her eyes were closed. The words underneath left no room for interpretation.

Unknown: You and the bitch girlfriend keep your mouths shut. No police or she dies. We’re watching. Further instructions will follow.

The strong man I knew disintegrated in front of me, tearing at his hair. “Oh shit, someone’s taken her. Fuck! What the hell do we do?”

I didn’t share Luke’s surprise. In fact, there were plus points to the message—it confirmed she’d been abducted, and it wasn’t a random sex crime. They also said she was alive, although I couldn’t be certain from the photo.

The bit in the text that bothered me was the reference to Luke’s girlfriend. There was still a possibility I was connected. I was about to make Luke’s evening worse with the most uncomfortable conversation of my life.

“We have to wait,” I said.

“That’s it? That’s your answer?” He paced up and down the hallway.

“The other options are going to the police or looking for her ourselves.”

“We’re not going to the police. Oh hell, do you think they know I called Graham? What if he stirs something up?”

“He won’t. If you don’t call him back, he’ll forget all about it.”

“I hope to goodness you’re right.”

I agreed with avoiding the police, at least for the moment. They weren’t going to do much with a scuff and a tyre print. Little traffic went down the lane and none of the neighbours had CCTV. It was one reason I liked the place so much.

“How about calling a private investigation firm?” I suggested.

“That’s as bad as the police.”

“They’re more discreet.”

He stepped right up to me. “No. Don’t you dare.”

We’ll see.

He resumed pacing, his movements jerky.

“I need to speak to you about something.”

His mouth set in a thin line. “Is it about Tia?”

“Not exactly.”

“Well, can’t it wait?”

“No.”

He threw his phone down on the side table. “Fine, say it.”

I took a deep breath. “I know you’re going to hate me after this, and I accept that. Please just understand that right now, all I want to do is get Tia back, same as you do.”

He paused his steps. “Why do I get the feeling I won’t like this?”

Because if Tia disappearing broke your world, now I’m going to shatter it.

“I’m not who you think I am. I told you I came here to get away from my cheating fiancé, but that’s not exactly true.”

“Go on.”

He sounded cross already. Good start.

“There was a problem with a guy, and I couldn’t deal with it. Then someone threatened to harm my friends if I didn’t keep well away. I needed some space. A few lies at the beginning spiralled out of control, and I couldn’t find a way to tell you the truth.” I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“So what
is
the truth?”

I turned away, because it hurt to look at him. “I still can’t tell you that. I don’t want to put you in danger as well.”

It didn’t take long for Luke to put two and two together and come up with my greatest fear. “So you think Tia’s been kidnapped because of something you’ve done?”

He looked like he was about to punch me, and I deserved it.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. There are more plausible reasons for her being abducted.”

“But it’s possible?”

“Yes.”

He stopped toe-to-toe with me. His voice was hard, his eyes unforgiving. “Get out.”

“I can help you if I stay. I know what I’m doing in situations like this.”

“Just get out!” He shoved me toward the front door. I could have stopped him, but there was no point in making him angrier. I’d come at this a different way.

He carried on shouting. “You came into my life, made me and my sister care about you, and all the time we were in danger. You selfish bitch! Tia might die because of you.”

I couldn’t argue with the truth.

Instead, I walked in the direction he wanted me to go. When we reached the front door, he pushed me out and slammed it shut behind me.

The lock clicked.

So, that went well.

Chapter 26

LUKE MAY HAVE kicked me out, but no way was I giving up.

I took a quick inventory of what was in my pockets—a bit of cash, a set of lock picks I’d got at the same time as the knife, and the phone I’d bought after I got to England. It wasn’t enough. If I was going to help Luke, I needed more equipment, especially as he wasn’t keen on my assistance.

Based on past experience, the kidnappers wouldn’t be in touch straight away. Now the first contact had been made, my money was on them leaving Luke to stew for a bit. They wanted him tired and unable to think straight.

Not too long, though, because that had other risks. The longer Tia was missing, the more likely others would notice she was missing and involve the police. My educated guess was that the next contact would be in the early hours. That gave me a bit of time. I just hoped it would be long enough to do everything I needed to before the rodeo started.

I set off on foot into the village, keeping in the shadows. The kidnapper’s message had said “they” were watching, but I was fairly sure there was nobody out the front of the house. I hadn’t seen anyone in the lane earlier, and more importantly, I hadn’t
felt
anyone.
 

There were woods out the back, which would provide a better hiding place. I’d check those later, and the gardens next door. The kidnapper had referred to “we” rather than “I,” but a gang was unlikely. A pair, maybe, but more than that tended to lead to infighting. I’d worked one case where three idiots argued so much, one ended up in hospital while the abductee snuck out the back. Made my job a heck of a lot easier. I had a feeling this case wasn’t going to be so easy, though.

As I neared the village, I called a taxi to meet me outside The Coach and Horses. Nobody would bat an eyelid at a cab picking somebody up at a pub. Within ten minutes, an ancient Vauxhall Vectra with a taxi plate rolled into the car park.

“Where to, love?” the driver asked.

“London, please, Belgravia. I’ll give you directions when we get closer.”

It took just under an hour to reach my destination, a part of the world I hadn’t been in since last year. I had the cab pull over to the side of the main road and hopped out.

“Keep the change.” Money wasn’t going to be so much of a problem now.

“Thanks, love. Do you want me to wait?” he asked.

“No, I’m fine from here.”

I walked along a couple of side streets until an eight-foot wall loomed ahead. Cameras watched me—I could see their red eyes in the gloom. I crossed the road and hopped up on a rubbish bin. The extra height allowed me to see the house beyond the wall. There were no lights on and all was still.

Good.

As the occasional car trundled past, I walked around the block and went through the same routine at the front. A single light glowed in the entrance hall. I knew the housekeeper turned that one on when she left for the day, as a welcome for anybody coming home late. She was a creature of habit.

I smiled in the darkness. It looked the same as last time I visited, and better still, it appeared nobody was home.

I set the timer on my watch for ten minutes. Ten minutes to get in and out. I knew the instant I appeared on the house’s CCTV cameras, a unit would be dispatched from the London base of my company. Even if the driver broke the speed limit, they’d take fifteen minutes to get there.

How about the police? Well, they didn’t worry me. Nobody would make that call. After all, it wasn’t against the law for me to break into my own home, was it?

I put my head down, shimmied over the gate and jogged along the driveway. High up on the wall, the camera swivelled around as it tracked me. I didn’t have my key, but it only took me thirty seconds with my lock picks. Then I looked into the retina scanner. What, you didn’t think I’d entrust my security to a single lock, did you?

The deadbolts shot back with a muffled thunk, and I pushed my way inside.

I flicked a couple of lights on and ran straight to the study on the ground floor, pulling back the mirror on the wall to reveal a hidden door. A sixteen-digit code punched into the recessed keypad got me through it and into the basement. One minute.

The basement contained a carefully amassed arsenal of everything one could desire to either start a small war or prevent one, all neatly arranged in racks and lockers. The really good stuff was hidden in an armoured room at the back, but I didn’t need any of that today.

I grabbed a couple of bags and filled them with equipment. Bugs, tracking devices, a spare phone, night vision goggles, infrared goggles, a parabolic microphone and a handy little scanner that would detect the transmissions of any wireless cameras or listening devices. I was a kid in a candy store, and I hadn’t eaten for months.

Should I take a gun? Decisions, decisions. I decided against it. They were illegal to carry in the UK, and the drawbacks of getting caught with one would outweigh the benefits. I picked up another knife, though.

I was glad I insisted on everything being kept in its proper place. It only took me three minutes to find the equipment I wanted. I removed a wad of cash from one of the safes, then giving my perfectly-ordered playroom one last glance, I re-locked the basement, secured the mirror back over the door, and ran through to the kitchen. Five minutes.

Food. I needed food. Luckily Toby had left a pile of shit flavoured protein bars in the cupboard, and I grabbed a handful. They tasted like sawdust, but I wouldn’t starve. Those and some bottled water went into my bag.

Six and a half minutes gone.

The phone on the kitchen wall rang. The moment my eye was scanned, alarms would have blared in the control room. That call was someone wanting to find out what the hell I was playing at, and I bet I knew who it would be. I could just picture the scowl on his face as I ignored him.

The noise was driving me nuts.

I stared into the hidden camera. “Pack it in!” I shouted at Nate. The house was wired for sound as well.

The phone stopped, and five seconds later, it started up again.

I didn’t have time to deal with this. I’d been thrown into this situation, and despite having three months to think of what to say to my friends about my breakdown, I hadn’t got round to it. Now wasn’t the right time. My head was all over the place.

The phone didn’t stop.

Nate would be pacing the control room now, an earpiece wedged into each ear.

“Nate, you’ll wear a hole in the floor.”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t—the house only contained microphones, no speakers. Although I bet myself $100 that next time I set foot in there, he’d have wired one in.

I dashed up the stairs, trying to block out the ringing, and grabbed some warm clothes and a blanket. A quick glance at my watch told me my time was almost up. I ran to the other side of the house and took the stairs to the underground garage.

Eight minutes.

What was in there? A BMW X5, an Audi A4, a sporty Yamaha motorcycle and my latest toy, an Aston Martin V12 Vantage, tucked up under a cover in the corner. I’d been hoping for the Land Rover Discovery I’d driven last time I came to the UK in case I needed to go off-road, but no such luck. The X5 would have to do.

I liberated the keys from the lockbox in the corner and bleeped open the car. The bags got slung in the back, then I popped the bonnet. Twenty seconds later I’d disabled the tracker hidden in the engine bay.

As I hopped in the front seat, I hoped I remembered how to drive. I had no idea who the BMW belonged to—my friends had a tendency to abandon their cars in my garage—so I kept my fingers crossed I wouldn’t break it. Breaking cars was Dan’s job.

I aimed the key fob at the garage door and tapped my fingernails on the steering wheel as it slowly rolled up. At the end of the driveway, the gates creaked open.

Nine minutes and fifty-seven seconds. Nice.

I drove quickly at first, heading away from the direction the response unit would come from, although chances were they’d called off the dogs when they saw me leave. They weren’t about to chase me through the streets of London, not when they knew they didn’t have a hope in hell of catching me.

Once I was sure I hadn’t picked up a tail, I pulled into a lay-by, savouring the adrenaline rush. Fuck, I’d missed this. I’d missed the challenges and the danger and the risk.

But I was back now.

I smiled to myself.

I was back. And I had a kidnapper to catch.

Seeing as I’d missed dinner, I gulped down a protein bar and took a slug of water. It was approaching midnight as I punched Luke’s postcode into the SatNav and headed back to Lower Foxford.

As I drove, guilt chewed away at me. I owed my friends and colleagues an explanation for what I’d just done, but I didn’t know how to put it into words. That part of my brain was still suffering from a serious malfunction.