Finding Kate Huntley (14 page)

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Authors: Theresa Ragan

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance

BOOK: Finding Kate Huntley
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Kate looked at him from below. “Jack. Now! Get out of there.”

Jack grabbed the disc and dropped it down to her. She caught it in one hand. Next, he tossed her the keys to the truck. “If I’m not back by morning,” he said, “give the disc to A.J. when you see him. If A.J. doesn’t return to his sister’s house, he lives in Burbank. Last name Hanson.”

“I’m not leaving without you.”

“You’ve got to. You’re my only hope.”

Tires squealed against gravel.

“Go!”

She didn’t need further goading. She gave Jack one last fleeting look before exiting through the back door with seconds to spare before the first policeman entered the lab.

It was too late for Jack to slide away from the opening. He stayed still. Another cop entered the room, gun drawn. The officer looked around, slowly, and before Jack could blink, the cop looked straight up until Jack saw nothing but the whites of his eyes.

Kate crawled down the other side of the chain-link fence. As soon as her feet hit the ground she felt a hand on her shoulder. She grabbed the arm and twisted.

“Ouch!”

Kate had the guy flat on his back before he could count to one. She went for the knife strapped around her ankle.

“It’s me—Brooklynn!”

Kate left the knife where it was and held the kid by the shirt instead, bringing her close enough to see her face. “What are you doing here?”

“I-I heard you and Fred...Jack, whatever his name is, talking at the house in the other room, and so I hid in the back of the truck. I-I’m sorry.”

Kate let go of her shirt and gave Brooklynn’s shoulders a light shake instead. She was only a kid, she reminded herself. “Do you have any idea how much danger you’ve put yourself in?” Kate dropped her hands to her side and blew out a puff of air. Shit. She’d almost put a knife to the girl’s throat. Looking about in frustration, she reached down and helped the girl to her feet. “Did you leave your brother home alone?”

“Uhm. No. Not exactly. He’s over there...” Brooklynn pointed across the street. “He’s behind those bushes. I told him to watch the front of the building while I watched the back.”

“That’s great,” Kate muttered. “Just great.”

“We chased those men off, but the cops came after Adam set off the car alarm. One of the neighbors must have called in to report the noise.”

Kate crossed her arms, letting Brooklynn know she wasn’t pleased, although she respected Brooklynn’s spunk and appreciated the help.

“That was cool, you know, the way you threw me to the ground,” Brooklynn said.

Exasperated, Kate shook her head and started off across the street. Brooklynn followed close behind.

Kate located Adam behind the brush at the same moment the front door to the lab came open. One of the cops pushed Jack toward the police car. Jack’s hands were cuffed behind his back.

Kate wondered what she was going to do now.

The cop shoved Jack into the back of the police car, shut the door to the vehicle, and headed back inside the lab.

The moment the cop disappeared inside the building, Adam jumped to his feet. He was across the street and next to the police car before Kate could protest. Adam pulled a long metal object from the waistband of his pants and shoved it into the lock in the passenger door. After some finagling, the door came open. Adam slid inside the front seat of the vehicle and for about five seconds Kate couldn’t see him at all. Adam finally reappeared and opened the back door.

A few seconds later, two shadows, one tall and one short, made their way across the street, heading toward her and Brooklynn. Once they were all hidden behind the brush, Adam used the same metal object he used to break into the car to remove Jack’s cuffs. Without a word said, they took off, single file, jogging through brush and around uneven rows of decorative trees until they were forced to hit the pavement. For about a block, the only sounds were their soft footfalls.

The subtle smell of fresh sea air reminded Kate of home. She drew in a deep breath and kept a steady pace. Jack led the group with Adam at his heels. Brooklynn was next and Kate brought up the rear.
One big happy family
.

Jack slid behind the wheel of the old Chevy. Kate tossed him the keys, then gestured for the kids to climb in next to him until all four of them were sandwiched in the front seat. The engine kicked over on the first try. Jack pulled the truck onto the street. No sirens sounded. Moments later, Jack merged onto the highway and headed back for Spring Valley.

“You two are in big trouble,” Kate told the kids, her tone firm. “You could have gotten yourselves killed.” A short pause followed. “And your mother,” she added, “she’s probably worried sick.”

“We called and told her we were spending the night.”

Kate huffed.

Jack smiled.

“This is not amusing.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, although she could tell he wasn’t sorry at all. Next, Kate directed her frustrations at Adam who was squished beside her. “And you. Give me that metal rod thing you used to get into that car, a police car, no less.”

He gave her a sheepish look and handed it over. “It’s a Slim Jim.”

“Where did you get this?”

“He probably ordered it through one of those infomercials,” his sister offered.

Adam elbowed Brooklynn. “I took it from the car that showed up before the cops came. My friend has one. They’re easy to work.”

“It did work,” Jack agreed, but Kate’s raised brow prompted him to clear his throat and say, “She’s right. Neither of you should have come. It was wrong.”

Adam frowned. “But—”

“No buts,” Kate said. “I’m really angry right now.”

Adam and Brooklynn kept their gazes on the road.

Kate glanced over her shoulder. There were only a few cars on the road, nothing to worry about. “Just don’t do it again. Fred and I don’t want to see you two end up behind bars.”

Brooklynn rolled her eyes. “We know who you both are. You can stop with the Fred and Wilma thing.”

Kate looked at Brooklynn. “How did you know?”

“Adam saw your picture in the Victorville Tribune a few days ago when we stopped at the rental office to get the key to the house. He recognized Jack, aka Fred, the moment he stepped into the house. So the dog’s name isn’t Barney, is it?”

There was a moment of silence before Kate said, “The dog’s name is Barney, but he’s not ours.”

“What happened to Barney’s owners?” Adam wanted to know. “Did you guys kill them and bury their bodies somewhere?”

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Jack said.

Adam looked disappointed. “Are you really an FBI agent?”

Jack’s sigh caused Kate to feel for Jack...framed by his own people.

“I really am,” Jack said, referring to his being an FBI agent.

“Am I going to be arrested for breaking into that police car?” Adam wanted to know.

Jack’s silence made Adam sweat a little before he answered. “No, you’re not going to be arrested. And although what you did was wrong and very dangerous,” Jack said, “thanks for the help.”

Adam smiled.

“No problem,” Brooklynn said.

Kate didn’t say a word. She just kept her eyes on the road, a road that could only lead to more pain and suffering. Being with Jack and the kids reminded her of what it was like to be part of a family. She closed her eyes, tried to focus on her father, the reason she was here. For the first time in years she had a hard time summoning a clear picture of him in her mind. She had to concentrate to remember his square jaw, dark silver-tipped hair and warm brown eyes. Memories of her loving father had kept her alive all these years, especially in the beginning when she was lost and scared and so very alone. Last night though, when she’d shut her eyes before drifting off to sleep, she’d seen a jaw not nearly as square as her father’s, and thick hair that framed mesmerizing blue eyes...Jack’s eyes.

Chapter 18

A.J. looked up from the desk in his cubicle, surprised to see Patrick Monahan leaning against the metal frame. “What do you want?”

“Harvey and some of the guys are looking for you,” Patrick said.

“Why is that?”

“An InfraGard meeting...you know, to join with local communities and work together to better protect America.”

“Hmmm.” A.J. went back to his paperwork. He wanted to get through it fast. It was Monday. He planned to leave early. He and Becky were going to run a few errands before having dinner at Canes, where they could listen to a few band possibilities for their reception.

“Did you hear about Conrad?”

A.J. played it cool. “No, what about him?”

“He was found dead in a phone booth near the Greyhound bus station.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

A.J. waited for Monahan to get bored and walk away, but he didn’t, so A.J. set his pen down next to the pile of papers and said, “What do you want, Monahan? Why are you standing here telling me this?”

“I don’t know.” Monahan flicked a piece of lint from his slacks. “I guess I just wanted to see how you would react to another agent’s demise.”

“How did I do?”

“As expected. You never fail to disappoint.”

“You’re a strange one, Monahan. I will tell you this. I would have reacted the same way had it been you dead in the phone booth and Conrad asking me these fucked up questions.”

Monahan made a tsking noise and said, “I’d watch my back if I were you, Hanson. We know what you’ve been up to.”

“Well, that’s good, Monahan, because guess what?”

Monahan lifted a curious brow.

“The reason I was late this morning is because I had to make an appointment with the director. He’s going to be in Los Angeles at the end of the week.” A.J. picked up a pile of papers from the corner of his desk and waved them at Monahan. “He’s going to be very interested to see these expense reports of yours. It looks to me like you’ve been getting around lately.” He set the papers down and picked up another pile. “And phone records, too. These are really interesting.” He flipped through the pages and stopped on a certain date. “This particular page shows all the calls you made from your Blackberry, which interestingly enough puts you real close to Dr. Forstin’s office on the evening of his murder. Coincidence?”

Monahan paled.

“Yeah, chew on that tonight, my friend. I know what you’ve been up to and it won’t be long before the director will know, too.”

A.J. stayed for another two hours. He left the office without bothering to finish the rest of his paperwork. He was tired and with all the shit hitting the fan lately he felt the need to wrap his arms around Becky and hold her tight. Maybe he’d be able to convince her to stay in tonight and check out bands for the reception another day.

He climbed into his Jeep and sat there for a moment while he put on his Bluetooth ear device so he could listen to messages while he drove. As he merged into traffic and made his way to the far left lane, he noticed traffic pulling over to make way for a fire engine. He pulled over behind everyone else and pushed the button to get his messages. Becky had called earlier. As he merged back into traffic, he listened to her voice message.


Sweetheart, I know you’re busy, so I thought I’d go ahead and return your tuxedo to the rental store, but I can’t find your cummerbund. Remember, the cummerbund you didn’t want to wear? I’m pretty sure you left it at your place so I’m going to swing by the condo and pick it up. I found the cufflinks we were looking for the other day, but they might charge us extra anyhow since you have lipstick smudges on the shirt collar. You bad boy, you.

Her laughter floated through the phone line and made him smile. At least until he remembered that he hadn’t been to his condo since he’d stopped by and saw somebody snooping around. He certainly didn’t want Becky running into anyone over there. He dialed Becky’s number and listened to her new ringtone while he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “Come on, Becky. Pick up the phone.”

The
Wedding Song
played. He shook his head at the thought of Becky figuring out how to set her phone to play that song, let alone any song. She was technologically challenged to say the least. She must have paid her brother a visit.

After the beep, he left a message: “Hi babe, it’s me. I like the song. Cute. But I really wish you would pick up your phone. Don’t go to my place. Okay? I had a few unexpected visitors and I need to check things out before anyone goes in there. Call me back.”

More sirens sounded as another fire engine and an ambulance sped by. He looked to the sky for signs of smoke. There tended to be a lot of fires this time of year. The last thing Los Angeles needed was more smoke in the air.

Both emergency vehicles turned off at the next exit, which happened to be the exit he would take to get to his condo. The beat of his heart turned up a notch. Until that moment he’d planned to head straight for Becky’s apartment, another five miles off the freeway, but something told him to follow the ambulance. He didn’t like where his thoughts were headed. He couldn’t fathom the idea of anything happening to Becky, so he called her number and listened to the song all over again.

Where was she?

A.J. couldn’t remember a single time when she didn’t answer her phone when he called her. He took the same exit the fire engine had and sped up, taking a right on Fifth and a left on Olive. He was about to leave another message for Becky when he saw a team of police cars and emergency units lining the walkway in front of his condo.

He drove his Jeep up onto the curb at the corner and hopped out. His eyes darted from car to car lining the street. And then he saw it...Becky’s black Jetta. Same license plate. Same ridiculous crystal pendant hanging from the rearview mirror.

Where the hell was she?

The air was foggy with ash, just like his mind, he thought as he headed for his condo. Smoke everywhere...but the thing that stood out the most was the debris scattered across the street. Garbage and pieces of what? Wood, glass, clothing, jagged strips of metal? What the hell was going on? He stepped over a broken alarm clock. It was his alarm clock. What was his fucking alarm clock doing in the middle of the street?

Where was Becky?

Paramedics carried a stretcher toward the ambulance. A.J. rushed forward, jumping over broken mortar and debris. He pulled the sheet from the body and saw that it was his neighbor, Mr. Pitzer. He looked from poor dead Mr. Pitzer to the paramedic. “What happened?”

“A bomb went off. Judging by the damage done to the building it looks like they attached the bomb to the gas stove.”

“Did you see a young woman, about five foot five, dark hair?”

The paramedics continued with their work, both shaking their heads as they pushed the wheels upward and slid Mr. Pitzer into the ambulance. A.J. took the stairs two at a time, dodging past the cops who tried to stop him from heading toward his front entry. The door to his condo was gone, blown to smithereens. Nothing was the same. His living room was unrecognizable...nothing but rubble. There were no longer stairs leading to his bedroom. Where the kitchen used to be, two firefighters were moving plaster and broken stones, digging for something while a lone paramedic holding an oxygen tank watched and waited.

A.J. stepped closer, tripping on broken masonry as he went. There she was. Becky. One pale hand emerged from the rubble. Her engagement ring glittered like a beacon amidst all the broken stone and ash.

“Becky,” he said as he headed toward her. “Becky.”

One of the firefighters looked at him and shook his head.

“That’s my fiancée,” A.J. told him. “We’re getting married next month.” He got down on his knees and crawled to her side while the firefighters continued to remove rubble, trying to dig her out. He held her fingers to his cheek. “Don’t leave me, Becky.” He kissed every finger, felt for a pulse. Nothing.

“I’m sorry, sir, but you’re going to have to step outside and let us work.”

Hardly able to breathe, A.J. started moving pieces of brick and stone. His chest felt heavy, his mind numb. “I’m not going anywhere, not without Becky.”

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