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Authors: Debra Webb

BOOK: Colby Core
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Ike's gaze narrowed. “I don't know who you're talking about.”

“Please.” She allowed the emotion pressing against her breast bone to show in her eyes. “It's very important.”

His expression remained rock hard. “Look—” he glanced around the room “—I don't know who sent you here, but using that name can get you killed.”

She nodded. “I know. But I need to reach him. He's the only person who can help me.”

Those tell-tale lines of further consideration scrawled across his forehead. “What's your situation?”

“Here's my number.” She grabbed a napkin and held out her hand for a pen. Ike pulled the one from behind his ear and tossed it on the bar. She wrote down the number for Riley's secure cell phone. “Tell him Tessa wants to talk to him.” She added her name to the napkin to ensure he didn't forget.

Ike picked up the napkin and looked at what she'd written. “I'm not saying I know anyone named Renwick. But, if I did, he'd probably want to know what you want to talk about. Seems to me—” he cocked his head and aimed a condescending stare in her direction “—anybody with a name like Renwick might be a busy man. What's your hook, lady? You can't reel in a big fish without the right size hook and a little appealing bait.” He stared at her breasts as he said the last.

Fear rattled Tessa's bones but she refused to let this ape see it. “Tell him I need a long vacation. I'm ready to make a move that would benefit the both of us.”

“All right.” Ike shoved the napkin into his shirt pocket.

She needed him to make the call now! “There's a time limit.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise. “You got a short shelf life, baby? You going bad or something?”

A tremble rippled through her despite her best efforts to contain the reaction. She was stronger than this. “What I am,” she said sternly, “is a woman with a valuable commodity. If I don't hear from him within the hour, I'll move on to someone with more to offer.”

“Funny,” he said, calling her bluff, “you seemed a little desperate just a minute ago.”

“I got your attention, didn't I?”

He laughed. “Yeah, you sure did.”

“Then you'll call him now,” she pressed.

He straightened away from the bar and heaved an impatient breath. “Sure.” He motioned to the boxes of whiskey and liquor. “You can see I don't have anything else to do.”

“Thank you.” Tessa's knees almost buckled as he walked to the other end of the bar. She glanced back at the entrance. Riley hadn't come busting in yet.

The bartender made a call on the bar's phone, seemed to be speaking to someone. He looked back at Tessa, then turned his back.

Her heart rate climbed a little faster. Her fingers felt numb.

She checked the entrance again. Still no Riley. She doubted that would be the case much longer.

Finally Ike the bartender ambled back up to where she waited. He passed her the napkin she'd written on. “He'll call you.”

“Soon?” That the one word came out so hopeful and desperate frustrated her.

Ike shrugged. “I can't say, but I can tell you that he sounded interested in your proposition.”

“Thank you.”

When she turned away, the bartender stopped her with a “Hey.” Tessa looked back to see what he wanted.

“Renwick's a bad dude. You better consider all your options before you go that route.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

He shrugged. “Just saying.”

Walking as quickly as she could without breaking into a run, she made the door and was out of the building just in time to come face-to-face with Riley.

“Renwick's going to call. He wants to talk,” she said, unable to catch the breath that had suddenly disappeared from her lungs. She chose not to tell him all that she'd said. He would insist that she'd put herself at far too much risk.

The cell phone rang, preventing Riley from asking any other questions.

He handed the phone to Tessa, his gaze heavy on hers. He was suspicious. She could see it in his eyes, could feel it emanating from his posture. Somehow she'd given herself away. She wasn't very good at hiding her feelings. Immense discipline had been required to hide her true feelings from the Master.
She hadn't had time to develop that discipline with Riley.

But there was no time for him to question her now.

The cell rang again.

She opened it. “Hello.”

The sound of the caller's voice sent a chill straight to her bones.

It was
him
.

Chapter Eleven

4:45 p.m.—41 hours, 30 minutes remaining

It was dark.

Matched his mood.

Riley could not believe what Tessa had done. What the hell had she been thinking? This meeting was supposed to be about what Riley had to offer—not her!

Since having a scene in the parking lot of the Rusty Hinge wasn't a smart move, they'd driven to a more anonymous location. On the northern outskirts of the city, a truck stop had worked. The parking lot was huge and the big trucks provided plenty of cover. Yet the good lighting prevented anyone else from loitering nearby to keep an eye on them.

“I will not let you put yourself in that position. End of negotiations, Tessa.”

She glared at him, her lips compressed with fury.

“I know you want to save those children.” He did.
And he understood that. “But you're a victim, too. I won't trade one victim's safety for another. We have to find a different approach. Make it about what I have to offer.”

“Four children are in that compound, Riley,” she threw back at him. “Four. There are four young women—younger than me—who are due to deliver any day. That's a total of twelve lives.” She planted her hands on her hips. “You're not thinking logically. You are an unknown variable. Renwick knows I'm deep in this organization. He will be more likely to take that bait.”

She was out of her mind.
She was.
“I see your reasoning,” he agreed. “I do. But what you're trying to do is my job. That's why I'm here, to save you and the others. If anyone is going to take this kind of risk, it's
me
.”

Her hands went up in exasperation. “So it's okay to sacrifice you, but not me.” She shook her head. “Sorry, but I don't see it that way. You're innocent of any crimes here. I've been a part of this organization for almost six years.” She blinked back the emotion shining in her eyes. “I've been a part of things…that I can't even bring myself to talk about.” She stuck her thumb in her chest. “This is the least I can do to absolve myself.”

“No way.” He shook his head. “I don't care what you think you're guilty of, there were extenuating circumstances. You are not one of them!”

She stared at him with those pale blue eyes. “Yes.
I am. I've known dates and places and—” she shook her head “—everything. I didn't try hard enough to stop him. I have this chance and I'm not going to fail.”

He looked away. Couldn't bear to see the anguish in her eyes. Nothing he said seemed to be getting through. They had argued all the way here and for another twenty minutes since.

Riley cleared his head. He needed to think rationally. He was allowing far too much emotion to intrude on this case. Maybe because he had a younger sister about Tessa's age. He couldn't imagine having her go through what Tessa had likely gone through. Not to mention his parents. An unimaginable nightmare.

After a time to get his head on straight, he said, “Let's look at this practically. We have something Renwick wants, obviously.”

“I have information he will want,” she offered.

Riley gritted his teeth a second to hold back the anger and frustration. “And we have the mock operations intelligence that Master provided.” Riley would wager that Renwick would want more than anything to bring down this so-called master. “Competition in the marketplace” as the Master had so aptly pointed out.

Renwick or his contact, most likely a contact, would meet with Tessa at 8:00 a.m. That was the earliest time he would agree to. Didn't leave as much
time as Riley had hoped for to wrap things up but it would have to do.

They could hedge their bets by Tessa holding out on certain information until Renwick made a move against Master. She'd set up that strategy already without realizing the benefit of the tactic.

Maybe, just maybe, this could work.

“But what if he refuses to act on the information?” Tessa asked, her voice too quiet. She was exhausted and suddenly second-guessing herself.

“Then we'll refuse,” he said simply. He started the truck's engine. “We need a place to crash. Sleep will make this all look better in the morning.” Riley wasn't so sure how much sleep he would be able to get, but Tessa needed rest.

“But…” She touched her throat. “What about that? By the time we meet with Renwick or his contact we'll be almost to the halfway mark in how much time we have.”

“Don't worry.” He shifted into Reverse and backed out of the parking spot. “Once the first domino falls it'll all go down in a hurry.”

Riley drove until he found a low-end motel called The Oleander well off the main thoroughfares of the city. Something close enough for quick action, but well out of the way of the mainstream. Before checking in, he picked up sandwich fixings and drinks at a convenience store. Food was necessary for optimal clarity and awareness.

He got the room and paid in cash. Thankfully the
rooms were small, stand-alone cottages. No shared walls. The place smelled of disuse and neglect, but it would have to do.

While Tessa showered he set up a monitoring device just outside the door. Since it was the only entrance, chances were if someone showed up that would be the way they would attempt to get inside. He didn't want any unexpected guests.

Once the door and one window were secured, he closed the drapes. He placed a call to Stark and passed along their position. Two agents would be checking into a hotel closer to the city but only a few miles from The Oleander in case they needed backup.

The agency's attempts as well as those of the Bureau to ID the man who deemed himself the Master had proven futile. While Ross's explosives tech had assessed the device wrapped around Riley's neck, another of his people had lifted prints from the cell phone the Master had given Tessa. Nothing popped up except a confirmation that the woman with Riley was indeed Tessa Woods.

He'd known that was the case. Her parents had been notified. Whatever happened to him, Riley had to keep her alive—for her family's sake. He didn't want to be the one responsible for them losing her a second time.

The bathroom door opened and Tessa emerged wearing the same clothes as before. Her hair was still damp. Riley couldn't stop the smile that tugged
at his lips. She didn't appear to care about makeup or the latest in hairstyles. Jeans and a simple blouse appeared to suit her without the fuss of designer names or high fashion. Tessa Woods, despite the horrors that had befallen her, had grown up to be a beautiful, compassionate woman.

That totally blew him away.

She'd had every reason not to.

“I hope I left you some hot water.” She scrubbed at her damp hair with the towel. “It felt really good.”

He thought about the first time he'd seen her in the pink flannel gown that covered her body from her neck to the ankles. Even then she'd looked soft and sweet and alluring. Right now, she looked sexy as hell.

“Riley?”

He snapped out of the daze just looking at her had drawn him into. “I'll shower later.”

She hung the towel around her neck and wandered to the small table by the window where he'd spread out the meal options. Peanut butter, ham spread, cheese and bread. Chips along with bottled water and sodas should keep them fueled.

“Want a sandwich?” she asked.

“Definitely.” He joined her at the table. Standing close to her, he could smell the shampoo she'd used. Honey scented. He resisted the urge to lean toward her.

She opted for peanut butter and a soda. He slathered on the ham spread and a couple of slices of
cheese. With the bag of chips under one arm and his drink and sandwich in hand, he plopped down on one side of the bed. She walked around the room a couple of times. He pretended not to notice her uneasiness. Finally, she perched on the other side of the bed.

They ate in silence for a time. He liked watching her nibble at her food. Slow, methodical little bites. He wondered if she'd been trained to eat so slowly and carefully.

She caught him looking at her. Again.

“You a vegetarian or you just don't like ham?” he asked, mostly as a distraction from the route his mind appeared determined to take.

“One of the children has a peanut allergy so we're not allowed to have it. Ever.”

“That's too bad.”

“It's scary.”

“You said there were women there due any day,” Riley ventured. He didn't want to push her for anything she didn't want to talk about. That was a shrink's job. But he wanted to know her better. He'd test the waters and see where the conversation went.

Tessa sipped her soda, then set it on the bedside table. “They're pregnant. The hope is that the babies will have the right coloring. Blond hair and blue eyes are the most valuable.” She said this without looking at him as if the topic humiliated her. “They're not always easy to find.”

Damn. Riley couldn't fathom that kind of in
humane rationale. “Is that why he chose you?” he dared to ask.

She nodded. “There have been others.” A small shrug lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “There will be more if he isn't stopped.”

He let the conversation go while they finished their sandwiches. There were a hundred questions he wanted to ask. The children they'd recovered in Alabama had all been abducted. Had he sought out young blond-haired, blue-eyed pregnant girls, too? Or worse, had he arranged their pregnancies after he abducted them?

Was that how the four children currently at the compound had come to be there? Why the women were due to deliver any day? Why keep those four and not ones from the Alabama operation unless that were the case? How was the selection of women made? What criteria were used besides hair and eye color?

“He receives requests,” Tessa said eventually. “Sometimes for Asian children, sometimes African American. Most of the time the clients want children six years of age or older, but no older than eighteen. And there is always, always a high demand for Caucasian female children with blond hair and blue eyes.”

“You said they're not always easy to find. How does he handle that problem?” That was the closest way he could think to ask the question burning in his brain.

Tessa got up and discarded her soda can and napkin. She took her towel back to the bathroom and then moved about the room as if she were looking for something. He didn't rush her or prod for an answer.

When she'd decided to sit again, she met his gaze with a somber one. “Ten years ago he started producing and harvesting what he couldn't so easily get his hands on any other ways.”

The horror he'd seen in her eyes several times since they met now formed a massive weight on his chest. “The young pregnant women?”

“Yes.”

“How…” Again he felt uncertain of how to broach the question. “How can he be sure of the desired coloring?”

“He selects the surrogates—the young women.”

Riley struggled to keep the disgust from his face.

“Then, using an insemination process, they are impregnated with carefully purchased donor sperm meeting all the necessary criteria.” Her voice sounded dull, listless. “It's all very clinical. The women are monitored closely. Given proper medical care and the best nutrition possible.”

“What happens to the women when the babies are born?” This was like something from a horror film.

“They're given three months rest and the process
starts again.” She looked away, exhaled a halting breath. “Until they're no longer useful.”

His own chest felt too heavy to allow his lungs to fill with air. “What about the babies? Even with parents who have the right coloring, brown eyes or brown hair, or whatever, can show up.”

“Happens sometimes.” She picked at the crumbs she'd dropped on the bedspread. “Those babies are less valuable but represent a marketable commodity just the same. Buyers are never a problem.”

He wouldn't ask the other question throbbing in his brain. As badly as he wanted to know her role in the organization, he would not ask. Like the rest, she would tell him in her own time.

“Where do you live?” she asked, her voice small as if she feared it was a question she might not be allowed to ask.

“Chicago now.” He gathered his trash and disposed of it. “But I grew up in Kansas City. My parents still live there. My sister's in college there. She's going to be a teacher.”

One of those rare smiles pulled across her lips. “I'd like to be a teacher.” Shame abruptly clouded her face. “I could never be a teacher now…not after what I've done.”

Riley reached across the bed and took her hand. “What happened to you wasn't your fault.” She lifted her gaze to his. “You're a victim. When this is over, you'll have the opportunity to start your life over and be anything you want to be.”

She drew her hand away as if she feared the connection would reveal something she wasn't ready to confess. “Do you see your family often?”

“Couple times a year plus I usually try to make the big holidays.”

“You don't have a wife?”

“Not yet. Maybe one day.”

“Girlfriend?”

He laughed. “Not lately.”

“I haven't had a boyfriend since I was seventeen.” She managed a small laugh. “I'm a high school dropout with a lengthy résumé of criminal activities.” She shook her head.

“You are not a criminal, Tessa,” he repeated softly. “You're a victim who has done what she had to in order to survive. Don't forget that.”

“So many times,” she murmured, “I've wished so hard just to be normal. To be like any other woman my age.”

“It's never too late,” he offered. “As long as a person's breathing there are opportunities and possibilities.”

Riley wished he could take that distant sadness from her eyes, but he didn't have that power. Only Tessa could decide to set a course that would make her happy. To achieve her dreams.

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