Firstborn (17 page)

Aislin nodded with newfound determination.  “I’ll give you a ride back to your place.”

Jac nodded and stepped through the front door.  “Will, Aislin is taking me to my shop.  Adam Holt is
on the move, and I thought it would be a good idea to get a read on him.”

There was no response.

“Will?”

When she still didn’t receive an answer, she moved through the living room and into the
bathroom, where Will had headed to finally get in the shower and clean off the memory of this day.  How long ago had that been?  Time had kind of gotten away from her while she’d been sitting on the porch.  She checked her watch without really processing the time and ran through the house.  She checked the garage and was relieved to find that her car was still there, but she didn’t dare go near it, in spite of the fact that the police department had checked it and given her the go ahead.

She searched more carefully, checking all
of the closets and the basement before admitting that he was gone.  And somehow, she knew that he hadn’t gone willingly.

She called his cell phone on her way back out to the front porch and was frantic to hear it ringing on the kitchen counter.  Jac couldn’t imagine a scenario where Will would have left her alone without taking his phone or driving a car.  She was absolutely certain that Holt had been in the house and had taken him against his will.

She paused in mid-stride and sucked in some deep breaths, attempting to calm herself enough that she could urge a vision.  When nothing came, she nodded to Aislin and dialed her sister.  She explained the situation to Taryn, who promised to get MaCall Securities Consulting involved.  And when Taryn asked of the whereabouts of her security detail on duty at the house, a quick search found him lying dead and tucked partially under some shrubs in the side yard.

***

Jac checked her phone repeatedly on the drive to Triskele and rushed through the doorway to turn on the lights and lock the door behind them.  She began raiding her crystal supplies and then deferred to Aislin.  “What crystal combinations have you been using?”

“You’re the professional, Jac.”

“I know what works for me.  But what works for you?  I want to make sure that we’re both equipped to tap into our visions.  We need to find Will and figure out how to save him.”

Aislin joined her friend at the drawers of crystals and selected a couple of particularly powerful crystals.  Jac carried the stash to the meditation room along with some sandalwood incense in order to calm her frayed nerves.  She would need to get a grip if she wanted to be any assistance to Will. 

The two women sat silently in the room, focusing intently on getting centered and then slipping into a subconscious awareness.  In spite of her successful meditations, Jac snapped out of it more quickly than usual and with no additional information of Will’s whereabouts.  She opened her eyes and tried to study Aislin’s face without distracting her and pulling her out of her trance.  When Jac’s phone rang shrilly on the floor beside her leg, she looked apologetically at Aislin, who bit her lip in frustration and shook her head, indicating that she hadn’t had any success either.

Furious and terrified, Jac grabbed the phone and answered the call.

“I’ve got him, Jac.  I thought that perhaps I could help, and I used Mom’s crystal necklace and immediately got a read on Will.  He was in an office, sitting in a large leather chair.  There was an abstract painting on the wall.”

“That’s his office,” she confirmed. 

“Good.”

“Not good, Taryn.  His office was burned to the ground.  There’s no way that the vision is correct.”

“Maybe it is.”

“
Is it possible that they made an imitation to throw us off?”

“It’s not impossible,” Aislin piped up.

“The man with him is familiar looking.  He’s fairly attractive if you’re in to the muscle-bound men.  And his smile could light up Manhattan.”

“Adam Holt.”

“I’ll take your word for it.  Whoever he is, he’s holding Will at gunpoint and ordering him to call you.  He wants to take you all out at once and put an end to this mess tonight.”

“Will won’t do that.”

“Right.  Which is why this Holt guy is threatening Will’s parents if he doesn’t comply,” Taryn added.

“You saw that?”

“I don’t need to.  I know how people work and which weaknesses others will prey upon.”

Taryn was right.  They should have told his parents to get out of town.  It was just a matter of time before they tried to use Dennis and Meredith to hurt Will.  He was devastated enough when Walker killed the Huntley women.  She didn’t know if she could bring him back if his parents were dragged into this and hurt…or killed.

“Are they going to hurt him if he doesn’t do what they tell him to do?”  Jac asked, already knowing and dreading the answer.

“He’s already pretty messed up.  Again.”

“Thanks, Taryn.”

She was quiet for a moment on her end of the phone.  “Let me know what else I can do, Jac.  Will doesn’t deserve this.  Neither of you do.”

“Thanks.”

“And promise me that you’re not going to go all
Buffy on this guy.  Call in the police and let the professionals handle it.”

“Not so long ago, Taryn, I
was
one of the professionals.  Just because I quit doesn’t mean that I forgot my training.  Will and I were thrown together for more than one reason.  It wasn’t just for hot sex.”

“At least promise me you’ll call for MSC back-up.  I’ll have some guys on call.”

“I don’t have time.”

“Then I’ll have them at your place in fifteen minutes.  It’ll take you that long to figure out where they’re holding Will.”

“I’m rusty, but I’m not dead, Taryn.  I’ll be long gone in ten minutes.”

She disconnected the call and logged into the laptop at the front counter of the store.  Aislin watched as she tapped various keys and scanned the screen briefly before tapping more keys.

“What are you doing?”

“Finding properties under Adam’s name.”

“He owns a cottage up north somewhere.”

“Have you been there?  He’s in an office with a large leather chair and a piece of abstract art in the background.”

“What about his office in the bank?”

Jac nodded.  “Good.  Stay here.”

“Jac, how are you going to break into the bank?”

She looked over her shoulder briefly at the front door.  “He wants me, Aislin.  He’ll
personally greet me at the door and hold it open for me to enter.”  She checked the clock outside of the bank, noting that it was nearly ten p.m. 

***

Aislin found a cleaning cloth in a cabinet under the desk and made a point of getting busy to keep her mind off of Jac.  She wiped down every display shelf and all of the crystals and candles on display.  She paused only long enough to call Taryn to warn her that her sister had gone after Will on her own and she suspected that Adam was holding him at the bank.  Then she got to work on scrubbing the floors of the shop.

She was on her hands and knees when she heard the bell above the door and said a silent prayer as she shot to her feet.  Instead of seeing Jac, a distinguished looking man stood in the doorway.
  He looked familiar to her.

“I’m sorry.  The store is closed.  I forgot to lock the door.”

“I’m here to speak with you, Aislin,” he assured her in a hypnotically deep voice.  He moved toward her then, casually as he eyed the merchandise without interest.  His thick black hair was graying at the temples, and his rich brown eyes were lined with crow’s feet that were slightly paler than the rest of his tanned face.  Everything about him said ‘money.’

“Who are you?” her voice trembled as she tried to sound as competent as she knew Jac would sound.

“It’s not important.  I wanted to personally thank you for your help these past couple of months.  I imagine that you feel guilty because your friend is struggling right now and may not survive.  But you are strong and special.  You are meant to survive this.  Your future is important to me.  And I’m not alone.”

“You’re a part of Adam’s militia.”

He smiled sympathetically.  “No, Aislin.  I’m not.”

“So how do you know me?”

“Adam has shared information with me.  But I am not a part of Adam’s anything.  I am so far removed--so far above Adam Holt.  I am a man of wealth, power, and influence.  You cannot begin to imagine how much influence I have.  So you can be proud of yourself for assisting me.  Assisting us, really.  Assisting your country.”

She was proud that he was qualifying her as an American, and her chin thrust up stubbornly.

“You are quite beautiful, Aislin.  And quite intelligent.  You have so much going for you, you know.  Your future is going to be better than you could have possibly imagined.”  He held out his hand again, a business card clipped between his index finger and middle finger. 

“I’ve seen the future.  And I’m not certain that the future is very promising for anyone without the leadership of W
ill Archer’s child,” she argued, making no move to accept his card.

He shook his head and clucked his tongue condescendingly
, letting the card drop to the floor.  “You simply don’t understand the dangers that this child poses to our country.  He’s going to change everything and destroy everything that so many patriotic Americans have worked for.  You have to see that.”

“No patriots would wish the future I’ve seen on the citizens of the United States.”

He shrugged.  “Certainly some will suffer.  But you do not have to be one of them.”

“I do not have to?” she questioned.

“I have told you that I am a man of wealth, power, and influence.”

“Are you suggesting that you will pay me to work with you?”

He laughed haughtily.  “No, Ms. Kearney.  I am suggesting that we will not kill you if you work with us.  You will share our power and influence.  But you must keep quiet and you must be cooperative.  Otherwise, you may one day find yourself praying to survive long enough to suffer with those other citizens who have your misguided sympathies.”

“I think I’d rather be dead.”

He smirked at her and then nodded.  “We understand each other.”

And with that, he turned and walked back out of the store.  When the door was closed and the man had disappeared into the darkness outside the shop, Aislin raced to lock the door, gasping for breath.  She had recognized him the minute he had walked into the shop. 
To be certain, she walked back to where he had stood and reached down for the card he had dropped on the floor.  It was a simple white card with no name or insignia.  Instead, it only had a ten-digit phone number.  Nevertheless, she was certain he was John Rundstrom.

Outside of the bank, Jac stood in the shadows, pacing back and forth and trying to stay out of sight.  She silently reviewed the facts as she knew them.  She knew that Adam may or may not be inside with Will and was hurting him
, wherever they were.  She also knew that he was not working alone.  The probability was good that he had men watching the outside of the bank, perhaps even trained militia snipers.

That stopped her in her tracks.  No sense in making a clear target of herself.  Instead, she crouched down between two shrubs, grateful that she’d put on a plum colored hoodie with her black cotton pants and tennis shoes.  She slipped the hood over
her hair and zipped it up. 

She had left her purse at Triskele with Aislin, which meant that she had come into this particular battle unarmed.  She had once told Will that sometimes, an untrained armed man was in more danger because that gun could be taken off of him and used against him.  She was hoping that her own training exceeded that of Adam Holt.  Taryn had said that he had a gun
on Will.

Her fingers itched with her desire for her
own weapon.

Instead, she only had her cell phone.  Moving closer to the bushes and hiding her phone in her hoodie in an effort to minimize the light of the phone, she placed a call to Aislin.

“Jac?”

“Aislin, text me Adam’s number.”

“Are you okay?”

“Text me,” she urged in a whisper before disconnecting the call.

Within seconds, her phone lit up again with a message from Aislin.

She knew that she needed to talk to
Adam.  She needed to get Will out of there.  He was brilliant, but he couldn’t defend himself against this son of a bitch even if he was healthy.  And given the beatings he’d taken lately, he was definitely not at full capacity.  Her training made her a more competent warrior.  Will only had a PhD.  She laughed at the thought, choking back a bit of a sob.

She couldn’t rush into the bank.  Certainly, the doors would be open for her, but she would end up getting both herself and Will killed.  And their baby.  But bringing in the police would be counterproductive.  They would bring in a negotiator who would spend hours communicating with Adam in an effort to convince him to spare Will’s life.  And the police didn’t have
any bargaining chips to use in negotiations.  He wanted Jac.  He wanted her baby.  But how could she justify negotiating her child’s life for Will’s.  And giving herself up would most definitely mean sacrificing her baby, as well.