Job Hunt (23 page)

He took a sip from his cup and decided that hospital coffee wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever tasted. It came close, though, especially after a week such as he was having. He settled the cup back into the tray and prayed for patience. He didn’t expect Nico and Daniel to throw the hot chocolate in his face when he offered it, but he could already picture how they would scrutinize the cups for the longest time, wordlessly debating whether what he’d brought them was safe to drink.

He’d been watching over them for a week, and the two boys still didn’t trust him. Not enough to accept anything he offered without scrutiny. Not enough to talk to him. None of his explanations and assurances had convinced Nico and Daniel to help him find the man who’d incarcerated and abused them. Hell, he didn’t even have a name to add to the wanted list!

Not for the first time that day did he consider calling Jack Horwood.

Not for the first time that day did he decide against it.

Jack had never actually worked for the Metropolitan Police, but while still at MI6 he’d been at least nominally a colleague. Now he was a civilian hard at work at his new job. Disturbing him for nothing more than a status check wouldn’t be wise. Bugging him to speed up his interrogations and produce a name would be worse.

Jack had a way of dealing with traumatized children that neither Clive nor Gillian Kent could match or even explain. There was no doubt that it worked like a charm every time Jack chose to get involved. Right now, Jack was the only person the two boys let close. However much Clive wanted to move this investigation forward, he couldn’t jeopardize the rapport Jack was building with Nico and Daniel.

The elevator doors opened on the eighth floor, and Clive froze, half in and half out of the cabin.

At the far end of the corridor, two men traded blows and punches.

Right outside the door to Nico and Daniel’s hospital room!

Clive dropped the drinks and covered the distance at a dead run. The uniformed officer looked like an experienced fighter, but his attacker was simply huge. As Clive skidded into range, the officer crumpled to the ground, unconscious or dazed Clive had no way of knowing.

Clive jumped over the prone form and landed a hard kick to the attacker’s knee.

The man merely grunted.

His fist flew straight at Clive’s face.

Clive avoided the blow and saw the kick to his ribs at the last moment. He didn’t have quite enough momentum to block, so he hit the wall, breath leaving his lungs in a rush.

The attacker’s fist thudded into the wall beside him. Clive wrapped both hands around the man’s wrist and yanked as hard as he could, pulling the man off his feet. His head slammed into the wall, and he slumped forward, dazed.

Clive tried to get his knee in place to do damage when a hoarse shout from inside the boys’ room had him spinning around in alarm.

There were two of them?

The door flew open, and Clive saw the second man. Bent over, one arm clamped around his middle, he tried to grasp Daniel with his free hand and drag him along.

“Police,” Clive yelled, and the man let go of Daniel’s arm as if it had grown red hot. To Clive’s everlasting relief—tempered by a good dose of confusion—the two would-be abductors considered him enough of a threat to turn and make a run for the stairs, leaving Clive in the hallway with two semiconscious police officers, breathing hard and clutching his bruised ribs.

C
LIVE
USHERED
the boys back inside their room, helped the two police officers in after them, and locked the door. It was yet another miracle that nobody had heard the commotion and come running. And that nobody had been passing anywhere close by. Granted, Nico and Daniel’s room was as out of the way as it could be in a hospital that size, but nurses checked on the two at intervals or just stopped by to chat with the officers. For the whole incident to pass unnoticed was as strange as two bullyboys turning tail and running at his mere presence.

Clive made sure the two officers were not seriously hurt before he turned to Daniel and Nico.

“Are you okay?”

His question received no audible answer. The two boys huddled close together on the bed furthest from the door. All that was visible of Daniel was the shock of honey-blond hair. The boy had darted from the door to the bed while Baxter’s back had been turned, suggesting that he wasn’t injured. Though judging by the bruise on Nico’s jaw, their would-be abductor hadn’t been gentle.

Neither boy was looking his way, but as soon as Baxter took a step toward them, both shrank back against the wall, eyes wide and bodies shaking.

Frustration boiled hot in Clive’s gut. After taking that kick to his side, he had trouble breathing, though that discomfort paled compared to the terror in the two boys’ faces. He had promised them all week that they were safe. And he hadn’t delivered.

He stayed in the middle of the room, making sure both his hands were out by his sides, the way he had seen Jack approach children. He kept his voice low and tried for a gentle tone.

“Nico, he hit you. I need to know you’re okay. Do you need a doctor?”

Neither boy reacted.

Clive’s hands curled into fists. He was a detective, not a babysitter or a counselor. He had no idea what to do to get through to the two. “I’m calling Jack,” he decided, digging for his phone.

“Jack gave me my knife,” Nico whispered. He raised his right fist a couple of inches off the bed. The fingers were clenched tight around the handle of a thin blade. “I cut him.”

“Good work,” Baxter replied without hesitation. “Did you draw blood? That can help us find and identify him.”

“Do I need to give you my knife?”

“No. Just get a clean rag, and wipe the blood off.”

There were enough blood spatters on the linoleum for forensics to work on, but Clive was too grateful that Nico had actually spoken to him to point that out. He pulled an evidence bag out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and placed it on the table before moving toward the window, creating a safe, empty space in the center of the room the way Jack had taught him to do. “Put the rag into the bag. Only touch the outside of the bag.”

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Daniel’s head move, looking for a clean tissue. Nico didn’t shift from his place on the bed. He had one arm around Daniel’s waist and half shielded the smaller boy with his body, braced for another attack.

Baxter turned his back and pressed buttons on his phone. Jack answered on the second ring.

“I’m at the hospital,” Baxter said without preamble. “He sent someone to get the boys back.”

“Did he succeed?”

“No. But…,” Baxter hesitated over what to say next. Gareth’s comment the other night had stung because the man had been right. Clive asked a lot of Jack. Always had, since the very first case they had worked together. Jack got things done. He was smart enough to make the law work to his advantage and able to bend the rules without getting caught.

“What happened to the uniforms?”

The snap in Jack’s voice brought Baxter back to the conversation. “Got knocked out. I’m with them and the boys in their room.”

“Wait for me,” Jack instructed. “Don’t call it in yet.”

“You think it’s an inside job?”

“Yes. Just like the last time.”

Baxter nodded, though Jack wouldn’t be able to see. They’d had their suspicions. All the little things that had been niggling him fit the pattern if someone had orchestrated the abduction. “I’ll wait for you.”

J
ACK
DROPPED
the phone into his lap and stared into the drizzle that draped the capital like a dreary blanket. One week. It had taken the pimp just one week to find the two boys and send someone to the hospital to retrieve them.

Jack had no need to imagine how scared Nico and Daniel must be. They’d had no reason to trust the system to begin with, and what little hope he’d managed to instill over the last days was bound to be gone. At least Baxter had been close enough to stop the planned abduction.

He had to get Nico and Daniel out of the hospital to a place he could guard, a place nobody would find. Given his and Baxter’s suspicions, that was not an easy task. The two boys still needed medical attention, so going on the run with them was out. Not to mention that his new boss expected to see him at this desk on a regular basis. Most of all, though, Daniel and Nico needed stability, a solid foundation they could lean on. Rushing around the country hoping to avoid their former pimp and the police wasn’t going to do them any good.

You don’t have to solve all the world’s problems by yourself.

Jack knew that. It didn’t change the fact that he didn’t ask for help. For a large part of his past, there hadn’t been anybody to ask. And the few times when he’d really had no choice, appearing weak or placing his trust in others had only made matters worse. Now, though….

Jack thought about the previous night’s dinner conversation, the compromise he and Gareth had agreed on. It was hard to ignore a lifetime’s worth of lessons, but he owed it to Gareth to at least give this a try.

“Don?” Jack waited until the Scot looked up. “Some… shit… just happened.”

Frazer’s eyes went wide for an instant. He was smart enough not to ask. Instead he waved his tablet at the trace flashing on Jack’s screen. “Shoot it here. I’ll carry on while you go fix your shit.”

Gareth sat where Jack had left him an hour before, scrutinizing a set of blueprints. He looked up as soon as Jack darkened his doorway. “What happened to today, tomorrow, and the day after that?” he queried with a smile.

Jack shook his head once. All levity vanished from Gareth’s mien, and he waved for Jack to come in and shut the door.

“I may need some—” Jack drew a deep breath and, soldiered on stubbornly. “—help. Somebody just tried to abduct the boys.”

“Tried.”

“Yeah. Baxter got there. He wants me.”

“’Course he does,” Gareth growled and ignored the eyebrow Jack raised for clarification.

“I need a safe place to stash the boys until they’re stable. Then they need to disappear.”

Gareth’s brows drew together. “Call Lisa?”

Jack hesitated on yet another choice. He shook his head. “Not safe.” He stepped closer to the desk and dropped his voice a notch. “He found them within a week, Gareth.”

“London only has so many hospitals.”

“It’s… not the first time,” Jack elaborated.

Oh.

Having a lover with a military background saved time and lengthy explanations. As soon as he realized what Jack’s answer implied, Gareth was coiled for action, and his mind was racing. When he made a decision, it showed in his eyes, the deep amber lightening to molten gold.

“Let me make a call. Get what you need, and meet me at the car?”

Jack took a deep breath and—once more—decided to give trusting Gareth (and not insisting on all the details up front) a try. He nodded, turned, and strode to the door.

“And, Jack?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“B
AXTER
. I
T
’
S
Jack.”

It was Jack’s voice, and the patterned knock came a moment later. Clive heaved a sigh as he pushed out of the seat by the window. To his surprise Jack was not alone. Gareth Flynn slipped into the room behind Jack and promptly turned to lock the door.

“You okay?” Jack barely waited for Clive’s nod before he strode across the room and stopped in front of the bed that was Daniel and Nico’s refuge.

“Are you two hurt?” he asked urgently.

Clive had hoped the two boys would talk to Jack. He’d not expected Nico to launch himself at Jack as soon as Jack stepped close to the high bed, wrap his arms around Jack’s waist, and bury his face in Jack’s chest.

This was new.

He had watched the boys cling to each other, but they shied away from all other physical contact. Even the nurses explained first and then asked permission before touching either boy. Nico’s throwing himself at Jack with such abandon was a shocking sight. He was the more stoic of the duo, and he was coming apart in front of Clive’s eyes.

“I stabbed him,” Nico whispered over and over, his body shaking. “He was going to hurt Daniel, and I stabbed him.”

Jack put an arm around Nico’s shoulders and held him. He bowed his head and murmured words too low for Clive to make out. A moment later Daniel touched Jack’s other arm and, without letting go of Nico, Jack joined the two boys on the bed.

“You with me?” Gareth Flynn waved a hand in front of Clive’s face. “What happened?”

“Two men,” Clive summed up. “Came up while I was getting drinks and attacked the officers standing guard. One made it inside to Nico and Daniel. Looks like Nico had a knife and stabbed him. They both hightailed it out of here when I yelled.” He scrubbed a hand through his blond hair until it stood up in a worried shock. “This isn’t making sense,” he said, frustrated. “There was no way I could have taken them both.”

“Jack intimated that this… happened before?”

Gareth’s voice was pitched low enough not to carry to the uniformed officers sitting against the wall. They’d gone along with Baxter’s claim that he’d called in the assault, but they wouldn’t be too cooperative if left out.

Clive considered Gareth Flynn before moving his gaze toward the officers. Without a word they both turned and reformed as a foursome on the other side of the room.

“I think this was too easy,” Baxter said, feeling awkward. To his total surprise, the older of the uniformed officers nodded.

“Can’t agree more. Reminds me of that case last year.”

Baxter stared. “You were on that one?”

“On the team that found the other children once Horwood provided the details. I’ve been on the force for a long time, but I’ve never seen anyone so pissed off.” He turned his head and watched Jack from the corner of his eyes. “He looks better today.”

That couldn’t be argued. Jack’s voice was soft as he focused on calming Nico and Daniel, his body loose and his movements gentle. The image was far removed from the tight-faced, blood-spattered agent who’d come barging into the deserted club yelling directions into a phone before going on to smash every bottle in the place.