Into the Whirlwind (3 page)

“All right, who knows your schedule? Your trainer, maybe? Write down his name and where I can find him.”

She wrote it down.

“Who else? Rose said you go grocery shopping every Wednesday. Anyone there you talk to? A clerk? Someone who seems to have more than a passing interest in you?”

“No. I'm always in a hurry when I'm there. I bring my list, buy what I need, and get back home.”

“Have either of you noticed anyone hanging around the house? A car, maybe, you only noticed just lately?”

Rose just shook her head.

“Not that I can think of,” Meg said.

“Let's talk about your ex-husband, Charlie's father. Hollander, right? You mentioned him once on the tour.”

“Jonathan Hollander. I went back to my maiden name after we divorced. Charlie uses my name, too.”

“He have visitation, partial custody of his son? How did the divorce end up?”

“Jonathan didn't want anything to do with Charlie. I was thinking about divorcing him when I got pregnant. It was one of the last times we were together. Shortly after I filed, I found out he'd been cheating on me with several different women. He wasn't happy when he found out I was going to have a baby. He was hardly interested in being a father.”

“What about now? He been calling, asking to see his kid?”

“No. He never wanted children. As far as I know, that hasn't changed.”

“What about money? He in financial trouble, anything like that?”

“Jonathan is the president of Seattle State Bank. The Hollanders are a very influential family in Seattle. That was the reason my father was so determined I should marry him.”

“Okay, we'll leave it for now. We can always look at him later. In the meantime, I need the names, addresses, and phone numbers of all the people you've put on your list, and anyone else you can think of who knows your schedule, anyone who knew you'd be out of the house at least part of the day.”

“Okay.”

“I'm going to call the office, see if one of the guys can do a little reconnaissance, see if anyone's out there watching the house.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

“You need to call your father, Meg. Unless something breaks, we're going to need that money. If we do, your dad's going to need time to get it together. I doubt he's got ten mil sitting in his checking account.”

She looked up at him, wondered what he was going to say when she told him about her dad. “Have you ever heard of Burton-Reasoner Industries?”

“I've heard of them. I follow the market. I know they're a publicly traded company. Aside from that, I don't know much about them.”

For a moment she was stuck on the fact Dirk Reynolds followed the stock market. “Burton-Reasoner owns insurance firms, soft drink producers, credit card companies, even utilities. For the past twenty years, the company has averaged 14.9 percent annual growth in book value. My dad holds the controlling interest in the company.”

Dirk frowned. “So he's what? A billionaire or something?”

“Or something. He doesn't like being in the spotlight so he tends to fly under the radar. But I'd say he's worth at least half a billion.”

A muscle ticked in Dirk's lean cheek. “So I guess now I know the reason you didn't want me to meet him.”

Surprise jolted through her. “You think it was the money? It wasn't about money!” It was so many things. Too many. None of which seemed important now and none of which she could mention in front of Mrs. Wills.

Dirk took a deep breath. “So ten million doesn't mean piss to your dad, and these guys know it.”

Meg straightened. “What? I thought ... I figured they knew I could get the money. As a model, I earned a big salary. I own a home in Madison Park. I hadn't thought much further than that.” She looked up at him. “So this is really about my dad?”

“It's not his fault any more than it's yours. It's time to call him. Past time. He may have some idea who these guys are. He may even have gotten a note himself.”

“Oh, God, I didn't think of that. Maybe I should have called him sooner. I was afraid he'd try to take over, but maybe I should have—”

Dirk caught her arm. “You came to me. That was the smartest thing you could have done. Your dad might be rich, but he doesn't hold the power here—you do. Whatever went wrong between us, I won't let him fuck this up for you, Meg.”

She looked down at his big, suntanned hand, dark against her pale complexion. “I want you to handle it. I'll do whatever you say.”

Dirk just nodded. Her skin felt chilled when he let her go.

Chapter Three

Meg called her father on the private line in his home office. At fifty-four, Edwin O'Brien was semiretired, though he was still deeply involved in Burton-Reasoner, still had an office in the building, still held a seat on the board of directors. He played golf a couple of times a week, but he was a businessman, first, last, and always. Her mom kept busy with charity work.

The phone was picked up on the second ring. “Dad, it's me.”

“Hi, sweetheart. It's nice to hear from you.”

Her eyes welled. Her father loved Charlie so much. “Dad, something's happened. Someone's . . . someone's taken Charlie.”

Silence fell on the line. “He's been kidnapped?”

“Yes.”

His tone shifted, hardened. “Did they ask for a ransom?”

“Yes.”

“How much is it?”

“They . . . they want ten million in cash. They left a note. They gave me three days to get the money.” Her voice broke. “They came in the house, Dad. Charlie was down for his nap. We think they had it all planned out.”

“You said
we
. Who's with you? The housekeeper?”

“Yes. And the man I hired, Dirk Reynolds. He was my bodyguard on the fashion show tour. He's also a private investigator.”

“Why is he there, Meg? You don't need a private investigator. You just need to do what the kidnappers tell you.”

“He's here because I trust him. You don't know these people, Dad. There's no way you can know what they're planning to do.”

“They want money, sweetheart. We give them what they want, they'll let Charlie go.”

Her hand tightened around her cell phone. “What if they don't, Dad? I'm not willing to take the risk. Charlie's my son. Dirk's a professional. I'm going to do exactly what he says.”

She could feel the tension mounting on the other end of the line. “Charlie's my grandson, my only male heir. I'll set things in motion, line up the money. I'll be there as soon as I can. We'll talk about this when I get there.” The line went dead.

Meg looked up at Dirk, saw the hardness in his features and knew he understood what was going on. “My father's stubborn. He'll want to take control.”

Dirk just shook his head. “Not gonna happen, Meg. Not unless you want it to.”

She bit her lip. She trusted Dirk. She wanted her son back alive. “I meant what I said. I want you to handle it.”

He nodded. “Then that's what I'll do.”

* * *

Dirk retrieved a recording device he kept with his PI gear in the back of his car and installed it on Meg's home phone. If the kidnappers called, he might be able to get a trace. If they called on her cell phone instead, Sadie might be able to locate where the call had come from.

While he worked, Meg used her smartphone to collect the addresses of the people on her list. According to Meg, Mrs. Wills had most of the phone numbers because she was the one who hired household staff or made necessary maintenance appointments, like carpet cleaning or plumbing repairs.

Meg filled in the name and address of her trainer and the part-time babysitter she had hired. As soon as the list was complete, Dirk phoned Sadie. Since she only worked a half day on Wednesdays and Fridays, she was at home, not in the office. He glanced out the dining room window. It was the middle of January so darkness had already fallen outside.

Sadie answered on the second ring. She was a big woman, fifty years old, with silver-blond hair and pale blue eyes. With grown kids and grandkids, she was the most unlikely computer expert he could imagine.

“Hi, sweetness, it's Dirk. I'm really sorry to bother you. I know you're not working today, but I really need your help.”

Sadie chuckled. “And you think your sweet talk is going to get me to do whatever it is you want?”

“I'm hoping. It's really important, Sadie. A little boy's life is at stake.”

She sobered. “What can I do?”

“His name is Charlie. He's not quite three and he's been kidnapped. Whoever took him came right into his bedroom. I've got a list of people with access. I need you to run them, see what you can find out. I want to know if they've got any priors, any financial problems, anything that would give them a motive for kidnapping.”

“They ask for money?”

“Ten million bucks.”

Sadie whistled. “His parents have it?”

“Granddad's got it.”

“I'd say ten million is plenty of motive.”

“You got that right. These guys are smooth operators, Sadie, not amateurs. I need to find out who they are. I need to know if the money is going to be enough to get the boy back home in one piece.”

“You figure there's more than one?”

“Like I said, they're smooth. In and out, slick and quiet. They had inside information. They knew Meg's schedule. Maybe even knew when the boy would be upstairs for his nap. I'm thinking at least two people involved, probably three, maybe more.”

“You said Meg. Charlie's mother isn't that model, is she? The one who gave you so much grief?”

“It's her boy. He's just a baby. This isn't personal. I won't let that happen.”

“Be smart, hot stuff. Don't get sucked in again.”

“I told you, I won't let that happen. I need your help, Sadie. Charlie needs your help.”

“All right, I'll head down to the office. I may need some of that high-dollar equipment Ian paid for. E-mail whatever information you've got.”

“Will do. Thanks, Sadie.” Dirk ended the call. Even before he turned, he felt Meg's eyes on him. Mrs. Wills was in the family room, knitting in front of the TV, just to have something to do.

Meg walked up to him. “It wasn't the money,” she said softly. “I have plenty of money. Not ten million in cash, but enough to be comfortable now that I've quit modeling.”

“You quit?”

She nodded. “After everything that happened, I just ... I wanted to be a mother for a while. I've got enough saved to start my own business. I'm not quite ready for that yet.”

Dirk didn't want to know more about Meg than he already did. He needed to keep his head on straight. Being around her was bad enough.

“I need to call the office, get someone out here to do some legwork.”

Meg just nodded, turned, and walked away.

Dirk sighed with relief. He wished he could lock her away somewhere so he didn't have to look at her. Where he didn't have to remember how good it was when they were together.

He phoned his boss. “I got a problem, Ian. I could really use some help.”

“It's an off week here,” Ian said. The blond, blue-eyed, ex-Seattle cop was the owner of BOSS, Inc. “Ethan and Valerie are off at some fancy resort in the San Juan Islands. Nick's taking a little time with Samantha and the baby.” A little boy named Travis, born not quite two months ago. “Luke's here, though, and restless as usual. Whatever you've got for him, he'll probably jump at the chance to get out of the office.”

“Thanks, Ian. I'll call him on his cell.”

Luke picked up on the second ring. He was tall, like all the Brodie males, with a lean-muscled build similar to Dirk's and the same blue eyes as Ian and Nick. “Hey, man, what's up?” Luke asked.

“I got a problem, buddy. I'm hoping you can help.”

“I'm sitting here playing with my dick, bored out of my skull. Lay it on me.”

Dirk smiled. Luke was his own man, a bounty hunter, one of the best in the country. Like Dirk, he was former Army Special Forces. But Luke was Delta, the best of the best, one of the most capable men on the planet. Luke knew Megan O'Brien was a La Belle lingerie model, knew Dirk had taken their breakup hard, but he didn't really know her.

Dirk planned to keep it that way. Meg might not be interested in him, but he sure as hell didn't want her getting interested in Luke Brodie.

Dirk quickly filled him in, explained about the kidnapping of Meg's little boy.

“Not good,” Luke said with the faint Southern drawl that showed up on occasion. Unlike Ethan, Luke had never quite escaped his Texas roots. “So what have you got so far?”

“Not much. Little boy disappeared between two and three this afternoon. Took him out an upstairs bedroom window. I found some footprints leading out through the alley. Meg's dad's on his way over. I need to talk to him, see if he knows anything that might help.”

“If he's got ten mil in ready cash, he's the target.”

“I'll be working that angle. In the meantime, I need you to take a look, see if the house is being watched. If it's clear, we'll knock on some doors, ask a few questions. See if somebody saw a vehicle out of place in the neighborhood or someone loading something into the back of a car. We need to figure out who took the boy and where they have him now.”

“Give me the address.”

Dirk rattled off Meg's address. “If they've got a man out there, I don't want him to know we're doing anything but gearing up to pay the ransom.”

“If he's out there, he won't see me, but you can bet I'll see him. I'll keep you posted.”

“Thanks, Luke.”

“Stay on the straight and narrow with the babe, yeah?”

“I hear you. I'm not going down that road again.”

Luke ended the call at the same time Mrs. Wills appeared, coming back in from the family room.

“Any news?” she asked.

“We're working on it,” Dirk said. “Why don't you go home and get some sleep? You won't do Meg or Charlie any good if you're exhausted.”

The woman glanced toward the stairs. “I'd rather stay here. Maybe I could just sleep in one of the guest rooms. Do you think that would be okay?”

Dirk looked over at Meg. Tears were back in her eyes. Damn, he hated seeing her this way.

“Of course you can stay.” She wiped away a drop of wetness. “I'll wake you up if anything happens, okay?”

Rose nodded, turned, and lumbered toward the stairs. He'd considered asking Meg how much she trusted the older woman, but unless Rose Wills was the best actress on the planet, she was grieving for the boy nearly as much as Meg.

A firm knock sounded at the door.

“That'll be my dad.” Meg took a deep, steadying breath and started for the entry.

Dirk stepped in front of her, blocking her way. “Let's make sure.” He strode to the door and looked through the peephole, saw a tall man on the porch with powerful shoulders, once-red hair turning gray, a firm jaw, probably early fifties, looked younger, obviously kept himself in shape.

Dirk stepped back out of the way. “It's him.”

Meg unlocked the door. She looked up at her father and burst into tears. “Daddy . . .” She went into his arms and they closed firmly around her. Maybe her father's money hadn't been the problem between her and Dirk, but clearly this man was an important part of Meg's life.

O'Brien's laser-blue eyes zeroed in on him, took in his slightly too long hair, the faded blue work shirt and muddy jeans he hadn't taken time to change out of. The look of contempt the man sliced his way said Edwin O'Brien was at least part of the reason Meg had refused to give their relationship a chance.

“It's all right, sweetheart,” her father said. “We're going to do whatever it takes to get our boy back.”

Meg sniffed and wiped her eyes. She forced the semblance of a smile as she turned to Dirk. “Dad, this is Dirk Reynolds, the private investigator I told you about.”

Instead of extending a hand, her father gave a faint nod of his head. “Reynolds.”

Dirk was forced to respond in kind. “Mr. O'Brien.”

Meg didn't miss the insult. She was tall, and as she pinned her father with a glare, seemed to grow even taller. “Dirk's here because I asked him to come, Dad. He was working on the house he's rebuilding after it burned down last year. He came because he knows how much Charlie means to me. Now I'm telling you, Dad, Dirk means a lot to me, too. I trust him and I respect him. I expect you to do the same.”

Her father's silver-red eyebrows shot up. Dirk figured it was rare that Megan stood up to him.

O'Brien sucked it up, stuck out a strong, freckled hand. “Good to meet you. Thank you for coming.”

Dirk shook, still reeling from the words Meg had said.
He meant a lot to her?
What the hell did that mean?
She trusted and respected him?
If those things were true, why was she sleeping alone when he had stupidly wanted to be the man in her bed?

“I've set the wheels in motion,” her father said to both of them. “I'll have the cash ready, maybe as soon as tomorrow.”

“So far these guys have been smart,” Dirk said. “We're looking for a way to track them, figure out who they are, but it's going to take some time.”

O'Brien's heavy eyebrows slammed together. “What are you talking about? We're going to wait for their phone call, pay the money, and get my grandson back. We aren't doing anything that might get him killed.”

Dirk's patience began to unravel. “You give them the money, we have no leverage. They do whatever they want with the boy. We need to know what we're up against. If possible, we need to figure out who's behind the abduction and find them before the deadline is up.”

“It's too risky. I won't have you interfering in this.”

Dirk cast a questioning glance at Meg. If she told him to stand down, he would. Or at least he would pretend to. Might be better if he left her out of this. Did what needed to be done without fighting to keep his emotions in check.