His to Take (34 page)

“Would he fly?” Joaquin asked.

“Unless he’s going to fly VFR, that would require him to file a flight plan.” Suit
One grimaced. “And that’s if he found a plane and a pilot at the last minute, but
we’ll follow up on private pilots in the area. Still, I doubt he’s flying, even though
it’s a long-ass drive to Iowa.”

Joaquin agreed. And if McKeevy managed to get her on their land, Joaquin and the feds
would have to find a judge and secure a warrant to search the property. That could
take a day, probably more. Even if they obtained one within a few hours, McKeevy would
still have Bailey all to himself for far too long. Once the sick bastard reached his
hidey-hole, she’d likely endure hours of terrifying torture before he snuffed her
out.

Ice ran through Joaquin’s veins as he contemplated his next move. Technically, he
wasn’t a federal agent anymore. He certainly wasn’t assigned to this case. The odds
of them letting him tag along were zilch. But he couldn’t sit on his hands and wait
for one of the “big boys” to be Bailey’s hero.

He had to get as close to that damn compound as possible.

“Am I free to go?” he asked.

The deputy looked at the sheriff, who nodded, then looked at the two suits from Philly.
They both nodded as well.

“I need a ride to my car.” Joaquin was already calculating how quickly he could get
to Iowa.

“It’s in the county lot. Maureen will take care of you,” the deputy supplied helpfully.
“But the tire’s gone totally flat.”

Joaquin didn’t have time for vehicle repairs now. “What’s the easiest way to rent
a car?”

After a couple of suggestions—all of which would take hours—he felt as if his head
might explode. Suddenly, his phone rang. Sean’s number popped on the screen.

“Hey, can’t talk now unless you’ve got an update.” He’d spoken to Sean after first
being dragged to this sheriff station, so he wasn’t expecting a lot.

“Where are you?”

“Still at the Carbon County, Pennsylvania, Sheriff’s Office.”

“Hurry up. I’m sitting on Xander’s private jet at the Philly airport, refueling and
waiting for you.”

They’d come to help him rescue Bailey.

Relief lifted a mountain of crushing fear from his chest. God bless Xander for lending
his plane. And bless Sean for leaving Dallas and his fiancée less than seventy-two
hours before his wedding in order to help.

“I owe you, man. Big. I’ll get there as quickly as possible.”

“Good. From what I hear, we need to get to Iowa.”

No shit.

They rang off, and the suits agreed to give him a ride to the airport since it wasn’t
far out of their way, as long as he promised not to interfere in their investigation.
Joaquin agreed. Of course he lied through his teeth, but hell, he would have sworn
he had four heads to secure that ride.

The tense drive seemed to take forever. Joaquin kept looking at the time on his phone,
thinking of all the moments slipping by that could be Bailey’s last. Where was she
now? He had no way to track her. They had a license plate of the stolen minivan they
suspected McKeevy was in, but what if they’d miscalculated? What if he’d already ditched
that car?

Abject fear ate at him from the inside, cracking the hard shell of his composure.
He had to get it together for Bailey’s sake.

As soon as the agents dropped him off at the terminal that serviced the private jets,
Sean met him.

Having slung the backpack the sheriff had returned to him on his back and ensured
his weapon was secure, Joaquin shook the man’s hand. “Thanks for being here so quickly.
I know you’re getting married—”

“Callie understands all too well what Bailey is going through. We agreed immediately
that I needed to be here.”

After a decade running from LOSS, the heiress probably understood better than anyone.
Joaquin’s respect for her went up another notch. “If we get Bailey back and recover
the research, Callie will never have to worry again either.”

“Right now, she’s just concerned about your girl. I have instructions to text Callie
the second I have news. Thorpe is trying to keep her calm.”

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“Any family of Kata’s is family of ours.” Sean clapped him on the back.

Stunned silent with gratitude, he followed Sean through the building, out to the tarmac.
Why would people he’d met a handful of days ago disrupt their wedding plans to help
him rescue a girl they hadn’t known last week? He wasn’t totally sure, but he thanked
fuck they were willing.

After a quick trek up the airstairs, Joaquin’s thoughts still raced. He ducked to
enter the cabin and saw Stone banging away on a computer. He never looked up. “Hi,
man. Sorry I keep accompanying the bad news.”

“Not your fault,” Joaquin assured him.

“I’m looking to see if LOSS has any sort of private network I can hack. If I can see
their internal communications, we’ll be better informed so we can plan our next course
of action.”

Good thinking.
Stone had located Bailey once. Maybe he’d be helpful again. “I appreciate it.”

Stone shook his head as if to wave him away and kept pounding on the keys.

To his right, Hunter rose to meet him, hand outstretched. “We’ll do our best to get
her back.”

Gaping, he shook his brother-in-law’s hand. “Why are you here? Your wife is having
a baby.”

“His wife is not giving birth in the next five minutes,” Kata said, exiting the restroom
at the back of the plane. “My obstetrician okayed travel for another two weeks. So
after a short discussion—”

“Temper tantrum,” Hunter corrected.

“My husband and I came to help.” Kata went on as if Hunter hadn’t spoken. “I’m not
just his wife; I’m your sister, too.”

And she shouldn’t be here. This mission could get dangerous. He looked at Hunter as
if the guy had lost his mind. His brother-in-law shrugged. “She agreed to stay out
of harm’s way. Stone will keep watch over her.”

Joaquin’s gaze fell to an older man beside Hunter. They looked remarkably similar,
right down to the rugged face and shocking blue eyes.

The man stood and stuck his hand out. “Caleb Edgington. I’m Hunter’s father.”

Numbly, Joaquin shook it. “My mother’s new husband?”

Why the hell was this guy here? Yeah, he looked athletic, especially for his age,
but they didn’t have time to help Grandpa if his back went out or he needed Jell-O.

“Yes.”

“I appreciate the offer to help, but this could get really physical and dangerous.”

Caleb’s expression iced over and he suddenly looked like a mean motherfucker.

Hunter cleared his throat. “My father served the army for twenty-four years, retiring
as a full bird colonel. He fought in Kuwait and Afghanistan. He’s participated in
combat training and clandestine missions all over the world. For over a decade, he’s
consulted as a military specialist and owned his own private company of operatives.
He’s a tactical genius.”

The older man crossed his arms over his chest. “I came because my wife asked me to.”

Joaquin couldn’t quite decipher Caleb’s tone. He seemed very straightforward . . .
but underlying grit and a hint of disapproval laced his voice. Naturally, he’d side
with his wife, who probably wished her deadbeat son would call or visit more. Joaquin
shoved the sting of guilt aside. No time to think about that now.

“Sure. Thanks.”

“You and I have never met, but we’re family now. Family helps its own.”

Mind-blowing. More people willing to go out on a limb to help a relative stranger,
just because there happened to be a little blood mixed in along the way. He’d seen
this group’s closeness over the past few days, but he’d never expected it to include
him. Against his will, he felt humbled.

Knowing he didn’t have time to examine the sentiment now, he addressed the group at
large. “Do we know anything else?”

“The Kansas City and Omaha offices have been alerted,” Sean assured him. “The known
roads into the compound are on surveillance. They’re worried a barricade will signal
LOSS that we’re onto them and they’ll send McKeevy elsewhere. So there’s an APB out
for him. The highway patrol in every state between here and Iowa will be on the lookout
for anyone matching his description. They’re circulating pictures of Bailey, too.
Other than that, all we can do is wait.”

The captain announced moments later that they were taking off and everyone would need
to buckle up. Joaquin’s gaze fell to the only available seat on the plane—next to
his sister.

Dropping into it, he set his backpack between his feet and strapped in. Within moments,
they were airborne and reaching their cruising altitude. The silence felt crushing.

“I’ve done a lot of digging,” Stone said suddenly, still tapping computer keys. “LOSS
doesn’t have any sort of internal hub or electronic communication system.”

“We know they’re using burner phones,” Sean tossed out.

Stone nodded. “I’ve checked all the private charter companies within a fifty-mile
radius of Lake Harmony. I’m not seeing a record of any last-minute flights. That doesn’t
make it impossible, but less likely.”

“So he’s probably driving,” Caleb mused aloud.

Joaquin nodded. “That explains why they tranqued Bailey.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t want to drive all night with an uncooperative hostage,” Hunter
added.

Joaquin was thankful to have something constructive to think about. “He’ll have to
switch vehicles often, and if he’s smart, he has a stash of plates or steals some
every time he swipes a new vehicle to keep any pesky highway patrol off his scent
longer.”

“Absolutely,” Sean agreed.

“If he takes Interstate 80, it’s the straightest shot,” Stone pointed out. “It’s possible
someone will spot him if they know which vehicle to look for at any given time, so
I’ll try to keep up with reports of stolen cars. But some folks may not realize their
car is missing until tomorrow morning when they try to head for work.”

“Aren’t parts of Interstate 80 a toll road?” Kata asked hopefully. “Maybe those cameras
will catch something.”

“Which is another reason he’d be switching out the license plates,” Hunter informed
her.

“You’re right.” Joaquin’s sister fell back into her seat again with a sigh.

“And cameras in toll booths don’t usually capture an image of the driver,” Stone added.
“Besides, I’d have to hack into multiple states databases and watch hours of footage.”

Hours Bailey might not have.

“McKeevy is wearing a black T-shirt, if that helps.” Joaquin raked a hand through
his hair. “But even if a camera snapped an image of his face, with night having fallen,
the picture won’t show much.”

“True.” Stone twisted his lips in thought. “He’d be smart enough to hide his face.
He also might take a few back roads for a little insurance.”

“In his shoes, if I could afford the extra time, I would.” Sean reached for his nearby
water bottle.

“So chances are, we’re going to reach Iowa way before McKeevy.” Joaquin said what
everyone had to be thinking. “We just have to wait for him to show up? Where?”

And Joaquin wondered how he would avoid going batshit crazy.

“We’ll get some sleep and food,” Sean said. “It will give us an advantage. McKeevy
doesn’t dare stop for much of either with a hostage. Since you killed Vorhees, the
driver he would have passed the wheel to won’t be with him. He’ll be limping in tired
and hungry.”

“And probably with a horrific need to pee.” Stone snickered.

“He’ll have to stop to get gas,” Kata pointed out.

“The bureau is doing everything it can to watch public places along the expected route.”

“What about a roadblock or a checkpoint along the road, away from the LOSS compound?”
She looked at Sean expectantly. “Call it a sobriety check.”

“The second the truckers encounter one, they’ll be chatting that up on their radios.
I’m sure McKeevy will be listening in and will act accordingly.” Sean shrugged.

“So don’t try at all?” Kata asked, her tone hinting that suggestion sounded ridiculous.

“No, better to let him think he’s getting away with something and grab him at the
expected destination, rather than spook him early. God knows what he’d do then.”

Kata sighed. “Too bad we can’t just trace her phone.”

Joaquin’s head popped up. He snatched up his backpack and rifled through it, but he
already knew he didn’t have it. Bailey did. If McKeevy was smart, he would have ditched
it long ago, but maybe he was too busy driving and laying low to search an unconscious
woman. Maybe he was too panicked to think about the fact that the phone could be traced.

“It might still be on her,” he told the others, focusing on the hacker.

“Number?” Stone barked.

Joaquin flipped through his own phone, then rattled off the number. And he held his
breath.
Dear heaven, please let it be this easy.
Please say he could have Bailey back with just a simple trace of an iPhone and a
call to some authorities.

Stone’s fingers flew over his keyboard again. He waited. He looked puzzled. He frowned.
After typing a bit more and swiping his thumb over the keypad at lightning speed,
he sighed. “Looks like McKeevy dumped it off the interstate near Milton, Pennsylvania.”

Joaquin’s heart sank. Nausea turned his guts. Having his hope dashed was almost as
cruel as having her taken in the first place.

“The good news is, McKeevy is definitely headed west, exactly like we thought.”

“Any idea how long ago he dumped it?”

Stone clicked around a bit more. “About three hours ago.”

A definite dead end. Dread swam thick in his chest, congealed in his belly until he
swore he’d throw up. He fucking couldn’t lose her now.

Without more logistics to discuss, everyone fell silent. Sean texted furiously, probably
to Thorpe or Callie. Stone tapped the side of his laptop—an annoying tic that made
Joaquin want to break his fingers. Hunter and Caleb both reclined their heads as if
they’d closed their eyes and kicked back. He envied soldiers’ ability to catnap in
most any situation. Joaquin felt too panicked and wired to try. Beside him, Kata stared
out the window.