In Her Sights (27 page)

The pilot saw them off, the concern in his expression a feeling Luke refused to acknowledge. Worry led to doubt, doubt led to mistakes, and they couldn’t afford to make a single one. Not with Joy’s life at stake.

A pothole catapulted Jasmine out of the seat and she gripped the armrest.

“You okay?” he asked, forcing the gruffness from his voice.

“We need backup,” she said quietly. “We’re going into this without knowing anything—we don’t know who or why Joy’s been kidnapped. We don’t know if this woman’s working alone. She’s used accomplices before. We probably beat her if she’s driving. If she flew, she could already be here.”

“We can’t call the police. The woman made it clear she’d kill Joy.”

He could tell Jasmine was about to argue, but before she could open her mouth, his cell phone rang. His body tensed. He pressed the speakerphone. “Montgomery.”

“I’ve been trying to reach you for an hour,” Seth snapped.

“Good news?” Luke said.

“Mom and Nick are okay after a scare. Much more of the drug and Mom wouldn’t have made it. I want a piece of this bitch, Luke.” A short burst of static crackled then cleared. “Paretti didn’t make it.”

“Damn. We could’ve helped him.”

“He didn’t want it,” Seth said. “Is Jazz there?”

She leaned toward the phone. “I can hear you.”

“Gary Matthews.” Some papers crinkled over the phone. “After he died—and by the way, he deserved everything he got—his wife and daughter went to Houston. The wife killed herself a few years later. The daughter, Lisa Matthews, vanished soon after, but not before she got herself into a lot of trouble. Including arson.”

“Like your apartment,” Luke said. “Does her name sound familiar?”

Jasmine bit her lip, her fingers clenching white. He could see she was trying. Well, she
had
to remember. For Joy.

“Lisa Matthews. She was a year younger than me,” Jasmine whispered. “Popular, everything I wasn’t. Maybe. Maybe.”

Luke raised his voice. “Thanks, Seth. Lisa Matthews may be the hit. Find a driver’s license picture to match with the police sketch.”

“I’m on it, and I’m on my way to T or C.”

“I can’t wait for you.” Resolve timbered Luke’s voice.

“Understood.”

With a hard punch, Luke turned off the speaker phone. He slammed on the gas, propelling them through the New Mexico desert and away from the airport, toward the town where his daughter waited. “Lisa Matthews. What do you remember?”

“I don’t even recall what she looked like, except everyone liked her.” Jasmine leaned forward, her body taut with tension. “It’s all a blur. The last time I saw Lisa was that morning. I think.” She closed her eyes. “Gary Matthews was dead; I was covered in blood. That’s what made the front page. Me, splattered in blood, being carried out in the sheriff’s arms. She was there, watching in the front yard. She had dark hair, I think, not red. That’s all I know. Why can’t I remember?”

The hilly landscape leading from the airport flattened out as Truth or Consequences came into view, its edge wrapping against a large lake.

“Oh God, we’re here,” Jasmine murmured.

The small New Mexico town looked dingier than she remembered. Elephant Butte Lake had been a victim of the drought, its low water level obviously rough on tourism. Like so many other rural towns, a string of failed businesses greeted them as they entered the city limits.

Luke glanced at her. “Which way?”

She fought down the rising suffocation. “Keep following Main and cross the tracks.”

They turned down several streets where quaint, well-kept houses lined the pristine sidewalks, the lawns green, the fences white. “I always wanted to live in one of these,” she said, her voice wistful. “
Families
lived in these houses. Mothers and fathers who loved their kids. Who sat down to dinner together and put up Christmas trees—”

“Jasmine.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past.”

He came to a dead end street. “Right or left?”

“Right. Then a few more turns. Straight into my hell.”

Luke’s tension ratcheted higher. When they reached a stretch of rundown and condemned houses, she asked him to pull over.

Luke stared around him. “My God, she’s got my baby in this dump.”

“We’re two blocks away. It’s worse where we’re going.”

“I’ll kill her.” He turned his cold gaze toward Jazz. “No one should live like this.”

Jazz fought the fear and shame his words wrought. A swirl of dark memories threatened to pull her into a vortex. Nausea rose in her throat as she remembered the closet, her mother’s bedroom, the pain she’d endured at the hands of Gary Matthews.

Jazz shuddered. Not anymore. That was the past. “We’ll get Joy back, Luke. I swear—”

Luke’s cell phone rang. The number was blocked. It wasn’t Seth. Luke activated the speaker phone. “Montgomery.”

“Your car’s been in Kremmling for hours,” rasped a mechanically altered voice. “Which means you flew.”

Jazz saw the realization flash through Luke’s eyes. Somehow the woman had tracked the vehicles in Colorado. She knew they were here. “I want my daughter. Let her go.”

“Order me again, Montgomery, and your daughter goes home in a body bag.” The sound of fury reverberated through the car. “I like killing. I like it a lot. Got it?”

Luke’s jaw spasmed. “Yes.”

“Good. Jane? You and I have unfinished business. Have you guessed who I am?”

Jazz closed her eyes at the tinny, mechanical voice. She wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but it had to be…

“Answer me, bitch. Do you know who I am?”

Jazz stared at Luke and he nodded. They had to take a chance. For Joy.

With a silent prayer, Jazz whispered, “Lisa Matthews, Gary’s daughter.”

A bark of laughter sounded through the phone. “You were so busy hiding who you were, you didn’t see what was right in front of you. Did you think you were so brilliant no one would ever find you? What a joke. I had to lead you by the nose.”

“You’ve proved you’re smarter than we are. Where’s Joy?” Jazz demanded.

“Your lover’s daughter. Cute little thing. I could make a pretty penny selling her. We’re not that far from the border.”

Jazz’s insides went cold, but she forced her mind back to her training. She needed to know Joy was alive. “Can I speak with her?”

“Say please.”

Jazz bit back vile curse. “Please.”

“Pretty please?”

She swallowed down the nausea. “Pretty please.”

“I can’t wait to see you grovel in person, Jane. You do it so well over the phone.” A moment passed, followed by the sound of a door being unlocked. “Wake up, brat. Someone wants to talk to you.”

“Munchkin? Are you okay?” Luke’s knuckles whitened on the phone. He obviously used every ounce of discipline to keep control.

A sharp static hit the phone and a normal-sounding whimper and a sniffle came over the phone. “Daddy? Can I come home? Hero and me are scared, and Hero has a boo-boo.”

Blood pounded through Jazz, stealing her breath, her vision. Images of being locked up, frightened, slammed into her like physical blows. She was tough. Joy was…Joy was…innocent. A raging fury swept through Jazz that Lisa had done this to Joy and to Luke.

“I’ll get you real soon, honey.”

“Hurry, Daddy. The witch got me.”

“You’re done. Get in there.” A door slammed and Joy’s muffled screams for her father could be heard over the sound of it being relocked.

“Joy!”

The fury in Luke’s voice and the fear he didn’t try to hide tore Jazz’s heart out. Lisa Matthews was doing all of this because she hated Jazz.

Lisa came back on the line. “Are you ready to deal with me now? Since I can reach you on this phone and you’re no longer flying, I know you must be close by.”

“We’re near,” Luke acknowledged.

“Good. Do exactly as I say. You’re going to come to me. No cops. No tricks. Or your daughter is dead. Understand?”

Luke gripped the wheel. “I understand.”

“Good. Tell Jane to go to the house where her whore of a mother sold herself to the highest bidder. You have fifteen minutes. Park your car on the street opposite the house and get out with your hands in the air. Don’t be late.”

Luke slammed down the phone. “Damn her to hell. I’d hoped we’d have an element of surprise since we got here so fast.”

“She must have learned that Kremmling had an airport and figured out the rest,” she said.

“It doesn’t matter now.”

Jazz picked up his phone. “We can’t call the cops, but maybe we can call an ex-cop.”

“Clarkson?”

Jazz nodded, unable to believe she was reaching out to the man who’d rescued her from the streets so long ago. The same streets where another little girl’s life now hung in the balance. Maybe he could help work another miracle. “Lisa’s using my past to attack us. Let’s use it to defeat her. Clarkson can’t help us now, but he can call the cavalry. Keep the police from shooting us if they see us with a gun.”

“Call him, Jasmine. We have to save Joy,” he said. “She’s my life.”

Jazz’s heart shattered into a million splintered shards.
I’ll save her, Luke. No matter what the cost.

Jazz punched the end button on Luke’s cell phone, her heart full of conflicting emotions. “Sheriff Clarkson’s a good man. I didn’t realize how good at the time. He’ll call for backup the moment you let him know Joy’s safe.”

“Good.” Luke checked his HK.

She twisted in the seat of the stopped van. “If anything bad happens…”

“Nothing bad will happen. I won’t let it. That means we work together. As a team. Stick to the plan.”

Her hands shook as she pulled out the Beretta and stuffed it in her jeans behind her back. Where was the calm, cool sniper? What had happened to her? Jazz struggled to pull her usually icy demeanor around her, but the image of Joy in that woman’s hands—Jazz fought to regain control. Did love do this?

“How can you be so calm?” Jazz had never faced a situation like this as a cop. She’d never had to worry about someone she loved in trouble.

“Because that’s the only way I can save Joy,” Luke said, his voice steady and solid.

He reached over and clasped Jazz’s shoulders, his gaze intense and focused. “You can do this. You’re not the girl who lived here. You’re a cop. A sniper. A warrior. I have no doubts.”

Jazz nodded, pulling strength from his faith. She took in a deep breath and let her imagination dip her into that lake of tranquility. For Joy. She could do this.

She raised her hand to Luke’s cheek and memorized his features, wondering if she’d see him again. In her heart she knew Lisa Matthews would have a plan. She hadn’t dragged them here to have a chat. She wanted Jazz dead. The fire, Tower’s murder, and Steve Paretti’s death spoke volumes about this woman’s total disregard for collateral damage.

“Lisa’s obsessed with you,” Luke said. “So distract her. Say anything. Do whatever it takes to convince her to release Joy. As soon as she’s safe, we’ll take her.”

“Just get Joy away from her, Luke. I’ll take care of myself.”

“Don’t do anything crazy, Jasmine.”

A bittersweet smile escaped her. “I’m trained for the crazy.” She hesitated as a realization hit home, giving her a strange sense of peace amidst the turmoil. “Being a cop is who I am, even without a badge.” She kissed him and closed her eyes, letting herself remember this moment, when she felt truly one with Luke. “I’m ready.”

He nodded, his expression grave as he put the car into gear. They drove past the next few houses, each looking shabbier than the last even in the soft light of a crimson New Mexico sunset. On the left, a particularly worn-down shack came into view, some of the windows broken and its rusty roof sliding off. “That’s it,” Jazz said, pointing.

“Joy’s in there?” Luke cursed. “It’s ready to collapse.”

The car screeched to a halt. Jazz jumped out, and Luke did the same. She placed herself in front of him, hands held high.

He grasped her arm, ready to pull her aside, but she whispered. “Lisa wants me. Let me do this. For Joy.”

A torn curtain at the window rustled, and Jazz tensed as if preparing to take a shot. Her fingers itched for her sniper rifle. Being without her team on a mission made her feel vulnerable, jumpy. But she had Luke. He was the best backup she could have.

“We need to draw her out,” he said. “Jasmine, call her. Now.”

“Lisa?” Jazz’s voice rang out, strong and certain. “We’re here.”

The face from the police sketch, her features cold and hard, stared at them from behind the tattered window covering, but her hair was no longer red. Blond curls framed her face, not softening it, just emphasizing the anger there. Jazz searched long-ago thoughts and images. Why couldn’t she remember the girl this woman had been?

Lisa smashed the window and pulled a screaming Joy forward, a gun pressed to her temple. “About time you got here. I’m sick of waiting.” She shook Joy. “Shut up or I’ll shut you up.”

“I won’t forget that,” Luke whispered, his voice deadly cold. The corded muscles on Luke’s neck popped, and Jazz knew he fought every instinct to stick to the plan, but he held firm. They had to wait for the right time.

The door opened. Lisa held Joy, wrapped in a pink blanket, in front of her as a shield, the gun still pressed to the terrified girl’s head. Tears streaked her cheeks.