Hunted (21 page)

With an inarticulate sound of rage, the man she knew had to be Carl grabbed her by the hair and wrenched upward. Zoe cried out and locked a hand around his wrist to keep him from ripping her hair out, automatically rising to her knees to lessen the pain.

He yanked harder until she stumbled to her feet, and before she could move he had her bent over the bed, face crushed into the bedding. Her struggles this time were useless.

He clamped her hands together at the small of her back and cinched something hard and tight around them. She tossed her head and lashed out with her feet, but she had no leverage and her bare feet hit his hard thighs without enough force to even budge him.

She was pinned, cuffed, helpless. Even if nobody heard her over the alarm, she had to try. Drawing as much air into her starving lungs as possible, she opened her mouth and screamed the only word she knew might help, as loud as she could.

“Fiiiiiire! Fiiiiiiire!”

Carl clapped a hand over her mouth and nose, cutting off her air. “Shut the fuck up!”

Zoe shrieked behind his hand, tried everything she knew of to throw his hand off, but he was too strong. Panic seized her, shorting out her brain.

Her body flopped and thrashed around in a desperate struggle for air. Her lungs burned until she thought they’d burst and her eyes began to bulge. Black spots danced in front of her eyes, then a gray haze began to descend.

He tore his hand away. Zoe heaved in a ragged breath, then another, her body limp and trembling. But he wasn’t done. He flipped her over, set a hand around her throat and stared down at her with cold, murderous eyes. “Gonna tell me now?”

She was so far gone with fear and shock she couldn’t have told him even if she’d wanted to.

His face tightened and he pulled something from his pocket. A syringe.

Zoe made a sound of protest and tried to roll away as he uncapped it, and then the sting of a needle burned in her outer thigh. “Now you’re gonna be sorry,” he muttered, tossing the empty syringe aside.

What had he injected her with? She started to shake, felt the drug take hold of her and drag her into a surreal place where she could hear and think but couldn’t move. She was paralyzed.

The shriek of the alarm mixed with the roar of blood swirling in her ears as he hauled her upright and slung her over his shoulder. “You’re gonna tell me where she is,” he threatened, rushing back through her living room to the top of the stairs.

Her stomach sank. He was taking her somewhere. The police would never get here in time.

“You’re gonna tell me
exactly
where she is,” he repeated as he hit the stairs and grabbed her purse from the newel post, “or I’ll make you suffer so bad you’ll beg me to kill you.”

Zoe’s throat constricted as nausea crawled around in her gut. She hung limp over his shoulder as he descended the stairs. She had a vague impression of light and shadow.

“What are you doing?” a male voice said, filled with outrage and shock.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” Carl snarled at him.

“Put her down!”

Carl’s muscles shifted as he raised his arm and two shots shattered the air. She heard the man fall, could hear him gasping for air. Carl took off, leaving her neighbor, Mr. Yeager, bleeding on her courtyard floor.

Zoe tried to cry out but she couldn’t make her lips move, and then she had to squeeze her eyes shut to block out the blinding sunlight as he hit the sidewalk. She heard the sound of a car door opening. He tossed her inside on the backseat, climbed in after her and slammed the door shut.

“Go!” he barked.

The driver hit the gas and the car shot away from the curb with a squeal of its tires, taking her where no one would find her.

Clay shifted in the chair and tried to get comfortable. He was seated at the middle of a long board table in a meeting room with DeLuca, Tuck, Evers, Schroder, and three of the DEA guys they’d been training with in Biloxi. They’d already been talking—well, Tuck, DeLuca and the DEA guys had been—about ongoing security issues along the Gulf Coast and the threat of Islamic jihadists smuggling across the border from Mexico.

Tugging at the thighs of his pants, he tried stretching his legs out a bit to relieve the pressure in his lower back.

“Bauer. Go grab us all some coffee,” DeLuca said.

Clay looked at him. Yeah, his CO knew exactly what was happening and was giving him an out. He opened his mouth to argue, but he had nothing to add to the conversation thus far and getting up to walk around for a bit would definitely ease the ache in his spine. He took drink orders from everyone and tried not to scowl, then headed down to the lobby and stood in line at Starbucks.

While he waited he texted Zoe. He was anxious to get back to her, and even more anxious for it to be nighttime so the others would leave and he’d get to be alone with her again.

He felt happier than he had in years, lighter, and it had everything to do with Zoe. Tuck had given him a hard look when he’d arrived for the meeting but Clay wasn’t worried. His friend would get over it, and Clay planned to make it clear she meant way more to him than just a fuck buddy.

He ordered the drinks and checked his phone while he waited against the wall near the bar. No answer. Probably either taking a nap or working. He really liked the thought of her curled up in her bed, tired and sated from what they’d done together.

And the suit porn thing. He so wanted to try it, see how worked up he could get her. They definitely clicked on many levels, but he’d be lying if he said the sexual piece of the puzzle wasn’t huge for him. He’d held that part of him back for so long, being able to finally express it had been a liberating experience.

He wanted more, and plenty of time to explore all the facets that made up Zoe. She was the most fascinating woman he’d ever met and he wasn’t about to let what happened with his ex fuck up the chance with someone like Zoe.

Still no answer from her when the drinks were ready so he loaded up two cardboard carry trays and took them back up to the conference room. He turned the corner in the hallway when he saw an unfamiliar woman standing beside the meeting room door, raising her hand as if she was going to knock on it. She glanced back at him, doing a split-second up-and-down appraisal. Not sexual, but definitely sizing him up.

“Can I help you?” he asked, an edge to his tone as he sized her up in turn and came nearer. Late twenties, if he had to guess.

Long dark brown hair, bronze skin, sharp features. Slender build, maybe five six and one thirty or so. He couldn’t see any weapons tucked into the waistband of her cargo pants or beneath the black T-shirt, but her stillness and her unreadable eyes told him she was trained. Clay wasn’t ready to drop his guard. She could have a blade strapped to her somewhere.

Her dark gaze held his, unflinching, her expression giving away no trace of emotion. “I need to talk to Commander DeLuca.”

Clay mentally raised an eyebrow.
Do you?
“About what?” Whoever she was, she had to have high security clearance to get through security and up here. Clay still didn’t trust her.

No reaction. Not so much as a flicker of emotion in those deep brown eyes. “I’ve got a message from a mutual acquaintance.”

That was way too cryptic for his liking. “A mutual acquaintance.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “That’s right.”

He held her stare for another few moments, trying to get a read on her. Finally deciding she wasn’t a threat to DeLuca and the rest of them, he relented with a nod. He’d stick around long enough to make sure his CO was cool with this and ensure there was no security threat. “Hold on and I’ll get him for you.” He let himself in and shut the door in her face, already wondering who she was and how the hell she’d known about this supposedly secret meeting.

Everyone looked up at him as he set the drinks down, but he sought DeLuca’s gaze. “Woman outside to see you,” he said to him. “Says she’s got a message from a mutual acquaintance.”

DeLuca frowned. “Excuse me,” he murmured and rose from the table. He tried to skirt past Clay but that wasn’t happening. Until Clay knew she meant no harm to DeLuca or anyone else in the room, he wasn’t leaving anything to chance.

He opened the door and blocked the doorway with his body while he verified that the woman wasn’t holding a weapon. She was standing right where he’d left her, arms still folded across her chest. He could see there was nothing in her hands, although something told him this woman’s hands—hell, her entire body—were weapons themselves.

This time she dropped the blank slate façade and raised an almost mocking eyebrow at him. Stepping aside, faint surprise registered on DeLuca’s face when he saw the woman. They knew each other, that much was obvious.

Clay spoke to him while looking straight at her. “You good here?”

“All good,” DeLuca confirmed. Clay nodded and stepped back into the room to let them talk in private. Tuck and the others were watching him.

“What’s up?” Tuck asked.

“Dunno.” But it was weird, and had to be important if the message had to be delivered in person during this meeting.

He pulled his chair out from the table, intending to take a seat, when the door suddenly opened and DeLuca’s gaze shot straight to him, his expression grim. “Need to talk to you.” He looked over at Tuck. “Both of you.”

Clay felt his stomach drop. This wasn’t good.

He and Tuck stepped out of the room. DeLuca faltered for a second, staring down the empty hallway in surprise. The woman was gone.

“What’s going on?” Tuck asked, frowning as he shut the door behind them.

DeLuca turned to face them, hands on hips. “There was an incident in the Quarter about half an hour ago.” His eyes flicked to Clay.

And just like that, Clay knew.

Zoe
.

Something had happened to Zoe. His heart seemed to seize in his chest.

“Witnesses say a man broke into your cousin’s place. He shot her neighbor twice on the way out and put her into the back of a car.”

Tuck’s face went white and Clay felt his own blanch at the news. “What—” He shook his head. “You sure?”

DeLuca nodded, met Clay’s gaze. “I’m sorry.”

Clay put both hands over his nose and mouth, dragged them down his face as his blood congealed in his veins. “She had the alarm on. I heard her set it.”

“It’s what alerted the neighbors. NOPD are on scene.”

Tuck didn’t bother listening to whatever else DeLuca had to say. He whipped open the door and said, “We’ve got a situation. Everybody move.”

Everyone rushed out and DeLuca filled them all in on their way to the elevator. Clay’s heart banged against his ribs, his mind racing at a million miles per hour. “Was she hurt?” He couldn’t take hearing she was dead. Just…couldn’t fucking deal with that possibility.

“Witnesses said she appeared to be unconscious and the guy carried her out over his shoulder.”

Clay closed his eyes.

Fuck. Me
.

He shouldn’t have left her. He should have stayed and then this never would have happened. God
damn
it.

He couldn’t even look at Tuck. The only positive was that she was still alive. The fucker must need to keep her that way otherwise he’d just have killed her already.

Clay was sick with fear as they all raced to the parking garage, piled into two SUVs and roared the short distance to Zoe’s place. On the way there Tuck told DeLuca about the situation Zoe had gotten involved in with Leticia and her son. They arrived to find the cops had already cordoned off the area, forcing them to park half a block away.

Everyone else hung back from the building as Clay, Tuck and DeLuca showed their ID and entered Zoe’s courtyard. A forensics team was already there collecting evidence and documenting the blood spatters on the brick floor and wall.

Clay’s heart plummeted at the sight.

Tuck was on his phone, speaking to Celida. He ended the call and spoke to Clay, rage burning in his brown eyes. “Celida’s on it. She’s helping get an agency taskforce together and they’ll be on the next flight down.”

“Okay,” he said. But it wasn’t okay. None of this was fucking
remotely
okay. Clay dragged a hand down his face. The only thing they had going for them at the moment was that it made no sense for the kidnapper to kill Zoe. At least not until the guy found Leticia.

A detective walked over and introduced himself to them before talking about the attacker. “Shot the neighbor nearly point blank in the chest, twice,” he said to Tuck. “He coded as they were loading him into the ambulance. Don’t think he’ll make it.”

Not Zoe’s blood. The neighbor’s.

His heart started beating again.

Clay stepped around the officers crowding the vestibule and courtyard, steeling himself when he saw the wooden cobalt door sagging on its hinges. The fucker had smashed it in and gone after her in fucking broad daylight. There was no way this was random, it had all the hallmarks of a targeted kidnapping. Had to be Leticia’s ex, or someone working for him. He’d kill Zoe.

No, Clay told himself with a mental headshake. Zoe was smart. Clay knew she’d understand that her life hinged on her not giving the kidnapper the information Leticia had left in that note this morning.

Upstairs more cops were gathering evidence. He showed his ID to the lead detective and explained who he was. The guy waved him toward the back, then into Zoe’s room. Like the lower door, the one to her bedroom was also askew, the wood around the lock shattered.

Taking that in, and looking at the bed where they’d shared something so intense and beautiful less than two hours ago, it made him sick to think of her being attacked here in her own private sanctuary. On the far side of the bed, a tech was bagging a pistol.

“Found it lying on the floor,” the detective told him. “It’s a twenty-two, has her prints on it. Gun safe was open and the safety was off. Looks like she was getting ready to fire it when he came through the door and disarmed her.”

So she’d barricaded herself in here and tried to defend herself but hadn’t had time to get a shot off. He could see it unfolding all too clearly in his mind, imagined her mad scramble to her room, locking the door and going for her weapon. The sick sensation in his gut worsened. If he’d been here, Clay would’ve dropped the bastard with two shots to the chest the instant he breached the lower door.