Betrayals of the Heart (17 page)

Ryan cleared his throat. “Let’s find your mom, okay. She’s been worried sick.” If Ryan had looked away for even a split second, he’d have missed the brief smile that flickered across Michael’s lips. A smile that gave him hope.

He tossled Michael’s hair as he joined him on the sidewalk and they made their way up to the front door. What he wouldn’t give for this all to be over, to end well. But the constricting knot in his gut wasn’t a good sign.

“We’re home!” The eerie greeting Ryan received when he opened the front door was nothing like the disorderly reunion he’d expected. Makayla didn’t run to embrace them. She didn’t blow up in a fit of rage over Michael’s carelessness, or Ryan’s hanging up on her, or even his insensitive departure earlier that morning. Nor were there screams of relief or tears of joy.

The house sat dark, quiet, unnervingly still. With a quick hand, Ryan shoved Michael back against the wall. Something was off. He gave Michael a look that warned him to stay calm, not make a sound. Then he moved down the hallway to the kitchen, his gun drawn. Michael followed right on his heels.

Where the hell was everyone?
A police cruiser still sat in the driveway. There were remnants of coffee cups and takeout food scattered around the kitchen table and overflowing the trash can. Several sports coats hung over the backs of the kitchen chairs as well. This didn’t look good. Had they left in a big hurry, or been caught off guard?

“Makayla.” He whispered the words into the empty living room, his voice echoing in his head. “Are you here?” Every hair on the back of his neck and arms twitched with apprehension.

Then irritation took over. “Makayla, where are you?” He’d called not thirty minutes earlier to notify Agent Harrington he’d found Michael and they were on their way back to the house. So what happened? Why would they all leave?

After several minutes of searching the papers scattered on the kitchen table, he paused to reflect on reasons the house might sit empty. “Shit.” The explanations for having to move her fast weren’t a good sign.

Once satisfied the front of the house was clear and before storming off toward the bedroom for clues, Ryan hit Agent Harrington’s number on his cell and then handed Michael the phone. The boy looked so lost, and afraid. “Stay put and ask what the hell is going on. I’m going to search the back of the house and see if I can figure out what happened.” He hoped giving Michael a task would help keep shock from taking root.

Michael placed the phone to his ear, nodding in response to his stepfather’s request.

“Hello? This is Michael. We….” Ryan heard Michael speak softly into the phone, but as he rounded the corner to the bedroom he couldn’t make out the rest of the words. He almost turned back to verify, but stopped in mid step. Light seeped out from under the closed bedroom door, sending a cold sweat running down his back. He took in a deep breath and prepared for what he’d find.

If someone was in there, why didn’t they answer him? He forced back the dread, plastered his back flush against the wall and turned the knob slowly. Then with a quick move he jumped through the door, gun aimed and ready.

Nothing. The lights were all on, but the room sat quiet and empty. He scanned over the neatly made bed before evaluating the mess scattered on the floor in front of the dresser.

“What the hell?” Signs of a struggle? Not likely. The pattern of the clutter looked too uniform. This appeared to be done on purpose and that idea didn’t sit well in his chest.

He searched the room further, his anger and annoyance growing with every passing second as confusion swirled the air around him. What happened in here? Why would everyone desert their post? Where would they take Makayla? And why didn’t someone call him, let him know the plan?

On his way to the master bathroom, he bent and picked up the family photo they’d taken right before Thanksgiving. The broken frame crumbled in his palm, remnants of glass falling to the floor at his feet. He felt his life crumbling with it. All this time he feared something like this would happen. But he also thought he would be more prepared.

Trying to connect the dots, his gaze lifted to the chaotic state of the bathroom. The contents of the trash can lay scattered across the tiled floor, the can itself resting on its side. The tub was filled to the top with water that had run over and pooled onto the floor. Odder still, the window. It was open but sat crooked as if someone tried to open it in a big hurry.

Scary thoughts bombarded his resolve. Had someone broken in, caught everybody by surprise? Taken Makayla?

A cold rush oozed down his spine.

The crisp air-conditioned air circulating through the room burned his throat as he inhaled deeply and worked to analyze the situation. The fact no other signs of a struggle existed gave him a small degree of comfort. If someone had managed to catch Agent Harrington’s team off guard, they’d never have gone down without one hell of a fight.

There would be blood, or worse.

He stood inside the bathroom, bracing himself against the doorframe as he tried to make sense out of it all. That’s when a white piece of paper near the bottom of the bedroom door caught his attention. The floral piece of stationary hung from a piece of medical tape that appeared to have slipped from its original position, but caught again before reaching the carpet. One word was written in the center.

Ryan crossed the room in three long strides. He bent to examine the paper further, intending to avoid disturbing the evidence, but the minute he read his name scrawled in Makayla’s perfect handwriting, he plucked it free.

Ryan,

I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to cause you more trouble or pain. But I think I know where Nicholas is. Steven has lost him. I’m sure of it. That’s why he’s stalling. He’s trying to find him. Lord knows I can’t let that happen. Please forgive me. I think I might find Michael there as well. He knows Nicholas has a secret hiding spot in the park.

I love you always,

Makayla

Ryan’s throat constricted as he swallowed. She’d done it again. Went against his wishes. Left without telling him, without protection.

Okay, so he knew why the inside of the house had been abandoned. They’d discovered her missing and set out to find her. But why wasn’t there a surveillance team outside in case she came back?

His gut churned and then knotted with apprehension. As he backed out of the bathroom, the walls seemed to close in around him, his scalp crawling.

No. Not again. This can’t happen again.

The eerie state of the house reminded him way too much of the day he’d returned home years ago and found his wife gone. He’d been on assignment working his last undercover case for the FBI. Jennifer was almost four months pregnant with their first child and he’d promised her before he left he’d transfer out of the human trafficking task squad. But his decision came too late. An agent on the inside of the FBI had leaked information about Ryan’s true identity while he was still on the inside and Ryan’s wife and child paid the ultimate price. He hadn’t been there to protect them. That fact still cut right to the bone.

Drawing in a deep breath, he gritted his teeth and forced the agonizing memories back. That was then, this was now.

“Michael, you okay?” Back in the living room, he headed to the front window and eased the blind open. The dark blue sedan that had been parked on the corner earlier that morning was missing as well. Harrington’s.

“Michael, did you reach Agent Harrington?” Michael was sitting at the table in the kitchen. His son held Ryan’s cell phone tightly against his ear with the weirdest expression.

“Michael, what’s wrong?”

Michael lifted his hand to halt Ryan’s questions. “Yes, sir, he’s here now,” he said, then extended the phone in Ryan’s direction. “They want to talk to you.”

“Oh, really?” Ryan could feel the anger rising. Being left out of the loop wasn’t acceptable. He knew they were breaking rules by letting him participate at all, but Harrington promised to keep him informed. Snatching the phone, he fully intended to give the agent an ear full. But the familiar voice cut him off.

“Ryan, where the devil have you been? We’ve been trying to reach you for over an hour.” Ryan’s eyes drifted back to Michael confused.

“I think something’s wrong with your phone,” Michael said.

“What?” Broken words played hide and seek with the static. “Wait a second, I can’t hear you.” Ryan pulled the phone from his ear and examined the screen closely. The battery was charged, the tone set to ring as well as vibrate, but there was enough static to give a swarm of angry hornets a run for their money. The only explanation he could come up with was that the phone must have hit the ground when he knocked Michael off the motorcycle.

This wasn’t happening.

Putting the phone back to his ear, he strained against the noise to hear Agent Harrington. They didn’t have time for this. Not now. A new bought of irritation burned inside him, rising and falling with every breath.

“We have movement.” Anxiousness vibrated through the agent’s voice. “Every one of the suspects has up and left the building. They’ve scattered. Something’s going down.”

“And Steven?” Another long pause and several seconds of static followed before Ryan’s worst nightmare came true.

“I’m afraid Steven’s location is unclear at this time.” Ryan’s heart fell to the pit of his stomach, his mind spinning. So this was it. Steven was about to make his move and they were totally blind as to what it was.

He looked down at the crumpled piece of paper between his fingers. Makayla’s last words, her fate, their future now lifeless in the palm of his hand.

The park?

Could it be that simple?

Steven was on the move.

Ryan stood in the kitchen, but his soul felt detached and a million miles away. He ran a hand through his hair, each jolt of his heart packing more punch than a sledge hammer and fueling his determination. Watching worry seep over Michael’s face, he tried to keep his tone level. “Have your men head to the park on 21st street. I’ll meet you there!” The phone went dead before he finished, but he hoped they’d heard enough.

Following this lead was all he had.

Michael slanted a peculiar gaze at Ryan. “We’re going to the park?”

“Yes, son.”

“Why the park? Is Steven at the park?” As the last word left his lips, a knowing expression lit his dark eyes. “It’s Nicholas, isn’t it?” Michael’s brow eased out of a frown. “He lost Nicholas. Way to go, little brother. Stupid asshole didn’t know what he’d gotten his hands on taking that little stinker.”

Ryan’s gazed jumped to meet Michael’s after the curse word slipped, but Ryan let it slide. After all Michael had been through over the years, he’d certainly earned the right to curse.

Steven had damaged so many lives.

By the time they reached the park, the horizon burned with the orange hue of a setting sun. Visibility was slipping away too quick, the element of surprise turning to dust with the sirens echoing through the air.

Could the local police be that dense? Or were his suspicions right? Someone on the inside trying to tip their hand and send out a warning? Steven was no idiot. He wouldn’t stick around knowing the law was closing in.

Gravel crunched beneath the trucks tires as Ryan pulled into the gravel parking lot and brought the vehicle to a stop. Michael didn’t hesitate. He flung his door open, bolting off in a dead run for the tree line at the back of the playground. Ryan followed, evaluating the surroundings all the way.

The entire universe had gone crazy. Whatever happened to establishing a plan of action first? You know, securing the area? He shook his head and picked up his pace.

Turning to look over his shoulder, Ryan thanked God Agent Harrington had managed to hear his last words through all the static on his phone. He waved the team around the opposite end of where Michael entered the trees.

Evidently, Nicholas’ hiding place resided among the dense cover of the shrubs surrounding the park. Just beyond them, a dilapidated wooden fence, a small farm road and then the interstate. The perfect escape route for Steven. This was not good at all.

Ryan pulled his gun from the holster and entered the small opening only seconds after Michael. He felt his world teeter.

“Michael, where are you?” His oldest son had disappeared. Not a broken tree limb. Not a peep. Steadying his grip on the gun, he scanned the brush and trees, searching for movement.

A twig snapped just to his right. He froze. His heart lodged in his throat.

“It’s me! Oh, crap. Don’t shoot!” Michael emerged through a small hole beneath a fallen tree trunk and Ryan felt his heart rate intensify.

Shit.
Ryan lowered his weapon and fought to contain his composure. Michael was lucky. He had no idea how close he’d come to being shot. Ryan’s level of training wasn’t at all what it used to be. The brisk breeze swirled the tension around them, intensifying the urgency. He cleared his throat. “Did you find anything?”

“Yes. Nicholas has been here. I’m positive.” Michael paused to swallow and catch his breath. “And Mom, too. But they’re gone now and it doesn’t look like they left alone.”