Fair Game Inc (2010) (25 page)

The guy from apartment four?

If his ex-girlfriend hadnAEt spilled the beans, number four would never know Amber had been involved. There had to be another explanation. Something obvious she was overlooking.

oWhatAEs the matter?o Her captiveAEs voice cut into her thoughts. oHas the little wolverine run out of things to say?o

Wolverine, she thought. An odd word to use. Revealing that even though she was tied up, he considered himself at a disadvantage. Familiarity teased her mind, his identity lingering just beyond reach.

oHungry?o her captor asked. AmberAEs stomach rumbled obligingly.

Paper rustled as he unwrapped what she assumed to be a chocolate bar. Anything, her stomach urged.

But instead of removing the bag over her head or undoing her gag, she heard the wet sounds of chewing. He smacked his lips, more wet sounds as he licked his fingers.

Her stomach contracted painfully, accepting that food would be denied. She heard him crumple the wrapper in his fist. The paper fell to the floor, rolling to rest against her arm.

oMmm, that was good.o Definitely not John Barlow, Amber decided. Barlow was so obsessively neat he would never have tossed the wrapper on the floor. **** oYouAEre acting paranoid.o Roger dumped espresso grounds into the trash compactor. oShe probably just went out for dinner.o

oShe said sheAEd be home.o Grayson took the cappuccino he didnAEt want and headed for the living room.

oMaybe sheAEs trying to make you suffer a little. Women do that kind of thing,o Roger offered.

Coming here had been a mistake, Grayson thought. Roger was worse than useless when it came to advice about the female of the species. Still, he couldnAEt dispel the sense of wrongness that had come over him when Amber hadnAEt answered her phone. oAmberAEs not a game-playing kind of woman,o he said finally.

oAll women play games,o Roger pronounced. oItAEs part of the mating dance.o

oThe--o Grayson bit back the ugly retort lingering on the tip of his tongue. oSave the pop psychology, Roger. SomethingAEs happened to Amber. I just know it.o

oMaybe she had a change of plans and didnAEt tell you because she knew you were mad at her and probably wouldnAEt be speaking to her anyway.o

oThatAEs just not like her,o Grayson insisted. oAnd besides, sheAEs not at home. SheAEs not at the office, she didnAEt go back to my place. I canAEt find her anywhere.o His voice rose in tune with his anxiety. oIAEll never forgive myself if somethingAEs happened to her.o

oOkay,o Roger said, holding up a hand. oLetAEs talk about what we know. SheAEs not at home like she said sheAEd be. Was her car there?o

oI didnAEt think to look for her car,o Grayson admitted.

oSome private eye youAEd make.o

Setting down his coffee cup hard enough to slosh liquid over the rim, ignoring RogerAEs worried glance, Grayson jumped to his feet. oIAEll go check out the car.o oWhoa!o Roger said, getting to his feet as well. oIf youAEre that upset, IAEd better come with you. Then we can check out twice as many places.o **** Grayson stared at the white sign above the empty parking place.

Reserved for Fair Game, Inc.

oDoesnAEt look like she went back to the office.o He had been hoping to find her car in its allotted spot and an apologetic Amber sitting at the chrome desk in her glass office. The car was missing, the office sat in darkness, and building security was getting more than a little suspicious of the two men asking questions.

Grayson would have pressed for more questions. But Roger grasped him by the shoulder and said, oLetAEs do a quick drive by of her apartment. Maybe sheAEs home by now.o

RogerAEs cellular phone only netted him another message on AmberAEs machine. His anxiety grew with every passing second. He shouldnAEt have fought with her. He should have listened, tried to understand. But he hadnAEt, and theyAEd parted in the morning angry with each other. If anything happened to her, heAEd never forgive himself.

AmberAEs red Honda wasnAEt in its allotted parking space. Even from the sidewalk he could tell the drapes in her living room were open and the apartment dark. He didnAEt want to risk another run in with Chris, the wrestler from across the hall. Not with Roger along. Roger would shoot off his mouth and get them both killed. Grayson had the feeling even Roger and he combined wouldnAEt be a match for the solid wall of muscle that AmberAEs neighbor called a chest.

But tonight Roger acted quite uncharacteristically. Roger was the one keeping his head for a change.

oMaybe she went back to your office,o Roger said with a worried glance in GraysonAEs direction. oGray?o

Grayson came to his senses with a start, realizing heAEd been staring up at AmberAEs apartment for several minutes now, saying nothing.

oWorth a try.o Picking up RogerAEs cell phone, he dialed the offices of Barlow & Charles.

His own voice answered, prompting him to leave a brief message including the time of his call. He slammed the phone shut.

Usually Roger would berate him for abusing one of his new gadgets, but Roger merely shot him another of those sideways glances and remained silent.

Grayson wasnAEt sure he liked this new Roger. The old one had been far more predictable.

The Honda wasnAEt parked at any of the meters in front of Barlow & Charles. Nor did they find it in the pricey lot in the next block. Another lead turning up empty. Amber was the private investigator, Grayson thought glumly. SheAEd have a plan of action. Amber would know where else to look. Grayson found himself at loss as to what to do next.

oMaybe we should call the police.o Roger swung the Porsche into traffic. Grayson scanned the quiet streets for signs of AmberAEs car, his heart sinking as the blocks passed. oI mean, sheAEs hours late now--o

oWait!o

Roger slammed on the brakes. The Porsche responded, nearly standing on its end. GraysonAEs seat belt jerked him backward.

oWhat?o Roger asked, plainly startled. He glanced in the mirror to make sure he was in no danger of being rear-ended. The street was quiet.

oI thought I saw something, under that tree back there.o Grayson pointed to a shadowed spot on a short block behind them. A lane branched off from the road, running behind the office buildings. Roger drew the Carrera around in a sharp turn and pulled up beside.

At first there was nothing unusual about the ancient red Civic parked alone on the street. But as they drew nearer, Grayson made out the deeper shadow of a door left ajar. He felt his heart pounding as if heAEd been running as they reached the car.

oIs it hers?o Roger asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

Turning his head to see in dim light, Grayson scanned the license plate. oFG 1,o he said, noting AmberAEs vanity plates. oItAEs hers all right.o

oDamn,o he heard RogerAEs quiet curse.

Steeling himself for what he might find inside, Grayson crept up to the car door and wrenched it open.

oShould you do that?o Roger asked. oI mean, if the police--o He fell abruptly silent.

oI have to know,o Grayson said. And forced himself to look into the shadowed interior.

Empty.

He let his breath go in a rush. At least she wasnAEt tied up inside, murdered or worse---

Grayson reined in his imagination. He felt RogerAEs hand on his shoulder, watched as Roger dipped his head to scan the interior. Felt Roger heave that same sigh of relief.

But then Roger said, oWhat about the trunk?o And his wild imagination leapt back into gear. The glare Grayson offered his brother made Roger take a step backward. oOkay, okay. Hang on, let me get my flashlight and weAEll have a look around.o

Still, he couldnAEt get the image of Amber suffocating in the HondaAEs cramped trunk out of his mind. It looked too small to hold even someone as slight as Amber, but now that Roger had mentioned it, he had to be sure.

RogerAEs flashlight cast a shifting pool of gold, as he walked toward him. A spattering of glass sparkled against the tarmac. Grayson glanced absently at it. Beneath the Honda, he caught another flash of silver.

oWait a minute,o he said, practically snatching the flashlight from RogerAEs hands. Shining it under the Honda he saw the silver outline of a ring of keys.

He sprawled out on the road, reaching a long arm under the car, heedless of the oil and glass on the road. Extending his fingers as far as he could reach, his hand closed on cold metal. Gingerly he picked them up, knowing he was tampering with evidence. If AmberAEs body was crammed in the HondaAEs trunk, he had to know.

Holding the key by its rubber grip with two fingers, he slid it into the lock. The trunk popped open, revealing a set of booster cables, a first aid kit and AmberAEs 35mm camera.

oWell, at least sheAEs not in the trunk,o Roger said.

****

oLetAEs you and me have a little chat.o AmberAEs captor kicked the chocolate bar wrapper out of the way and walked toward her. Heedless of her aching shoulders or her abused wrists, he hauled her head up. That only served to put more pressure on her back and shoulder, unable to bear any of her weight with her hands and legs bound. She winced, but refused to cry out, just in case he was one of those sadistic maniacs who enjoyed causing pain.

He wedged her head between his knees, facing outward so she couldnAEt see him, and lifted the burlap enough to rip the tape from her mouth. Pale light flashed across her vision. She caught a glimpse of a large concrete room. The wan light of a flashlight did nothing to illuminate the thickly shadowed corners. She spat the foul tasting cloth from her mouth. Ignoring the pain in her neck, she twisted to see her captorAEs face.

oNot so fast.o Strong hands wrenched her head back around. Burlap covered her face once more. He released her, letting her fall awkwardly back to the floor.

oWho are you?o

Grating laughter answered her question. oSome PI you are, Ms Shaw if you canAEt figure that one out.o

Well, Amber reasoned. She hadnAEt expected him to tell her. She merely hoped heAEd be caught off guard enough to answer. Biting back a nasty retort that could only worsen the situation, she said, oI know you, donAEt I?o

His laughter died into silence. oOh, you never had much time for me, Ms Shaw.o

Never had much time for me. What did that mean? Until now, sheAEd assumed her captor was either John Barlow or some creature heAEd hired so he wouldnAEt have to dirty his hands in the business of revenge. It stood to reason it would be Barlow. Investigative lore maintained the most likely suspect was the one who was most desperate. The person with the most to lose. All leads led back to John Barlow. Barlow had his house, his firm and his reputation at stake. Barlow had embezzled money from GraysonAEs firm for over twenty years. Barlow desperately wanted to keep his dark secret safe.

But now that the secret had been blown wide open, did Barlow want revenge upon the woman responsible?

Amber would bet her paycheck on it. That didnAEt explain the comment, you never had much time for me.

So it was someone she knew. Someone who held a grudge for a perceived snub. oYouAEre someone whoAEs angry with me,o she ventured.

oAnd youAEre wondering why, arenAEt you?o

She nodded. The burlap scratched against the cloth of her jacket.

oYouAEd like me to tell you, wouldnAEt you?o

Amber nodded again.

oIAEm not going to do that, sweetheart.o He drawled out the endearment, making it sound more like a curse. oItAEs such a rare treat for me to see the great Amber Shaw at a loss.o

Sweetheart. Someone had called her that. Recently.

oYou want me to suffer,o she stated as matter-of-factly as she could. oWhy?o

oBecause you made me suffer, Amber. Figure it out. Make the connection, girl. You made me suffer, and you donAEt even remember.o

She had made John Barlow suffer. But not in the personal way her captor seemed to suggest. And if he wasnAEt Barlow or in BarlowAEs hire, then that left her without a point of reference. No where to start, she thought fighting back another wave of panic.

oIf I hurt you, IAEm sorry,o she ventured.

oNaw, youAEre not, Amber Babe. You never gave a damn about me. You thought the whole world was yours to pick and choose from. Did you think you could keep on taking what wasnAEt yours and get away with it?o

oWhat wasnAEt mine?o Amber blurted, anger getting the better of her. oIAEve never stolen a thing in my life. In spite of the fact that life has done a good deal of stealing from me!o Now what on earth made her say that, she wondered.

oOh right,o came that disembodied voice. Closer now, bending over her. The smell of garlic penetrated the burlap. oDaddy ran away when you were little. And even your ex-fiancT decided he couldnAEt live with you.o

The barb startled her into silence. oBut how--o

oLearn from my example, Amber Babe. I know how to do my research.o

Panic struggled for control. Amber fought it back. Telling herself it wasnAEt a matter of the heart they were discussing here, but the cold reality of what might be her murder, she allowed the rational private investigator side of her personality free rein.