KIDNAPPED, A Romantic Suspense Novel (25 page)

Suddenly curious, Sami straightened. “When did this murder take place?”

“Back in September. Why?” Jake leaned one arm on his chair, the other stroking his beard.

“How long before this raid did you hear the boy had witnessed the murder?” Doyle picked up on Sami’s train of thought.

“The week before.” Jake’s hand gripped his knee, the knuckles tightening. He inhaled deeply, his eyes narrowing in anger. “Whoever tried to ambush me didn’t want me to talk to Nicky.”

“And between patching his wounds, the fever and being on the run, you really haven’t had a chance to find out exactly what he knows, have you?” Sami asked.

Doyle slowly nodded. “Seems to me it’d be a good idea to find out exactly what your young friend saw that night.”

Jake sat next to Nicky. “Little partner, take a break from the game a sec and help us with a problem.”

“But the gorilla’s winning.” Nicky hunched lower over the controller, his finger flying feverishly over the buttons.

Jake reached between his arms to push the pause button. “Now, Nicholai. This is important. The game will still be there when we’re done talking.”

Nicky slumped on the ottoman, his lips pursed and his eyebrows drawn downwards in a scowl. Sami hid her own smile at the kid’s first American snit. She wondered how Jake planned to get the information out of him now.

Jake sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the ottoman. He flicked Nicky’s shoelaces a few times. “Lil’ partner, I’m tired of all this running around, how about you?”

Nicky nodded, his fingers trying to catch Jake as they played shoestring tag.

“You remember the night you saw Boss Kreshnin hit the man on the head and put him in the car trunk?”

“Da,” the boy muttered.

“Do you remember if anyone else was there?” Jake leaned closer.

Nicky nodded, seeming to shrink further in his seat.

Sami scooted to the edge of her chair, anxious to hear what he’d seen, but worried the memories might hurt him. “Can you tell us who?”

“Who was there, Nicky?” Jake laid a hand on the boy’s knee.

“Boss
Kreshnin, and Ivan.”

Jake glanced at Sami and Doyle. “Malenki Ivan Kreshnin is the younger brother of the Boss. Nicky, was anyone else there?

“A little man. He was very…how you say? Mad.”

Jake squeezed Nicky’s knee reassuringly. “Do you know his name?”

Nicky shrugged. “He was Madson.”

“Madson?” Jake turned his head, and quirked an eyebrow at Doyle. “Do you know a Madson on the force?”

The older man thought a few minutes, then shook his head. “Unless he’s new the last few years. The name isn’t one from the old days, that’s for sure.”

“Maybe he’s a transfer in, or from a division neither one of you are familiar with,” Sami suggested.

Jake shook his head this time. “Doyle sat on the Fraternal Order of Police benefits committee before he retired. You knew everyone on the force then, didn’t you?”

“Not personally, but we did see each file of every member. The name Madson doesn’t ring a bell.” Doyle lifted his left leg off the ottoman with practiced care, then limped to his computer. “I downloaded the old files into my hard drive just before I left the force. Come over here, Nicky. Let’s see if anyone pops up you recognize.”

Nicky’s eyes widen as images flashed onto the computer screen. He hopped off the ottoman and ran to pull the chair Jake had vacated up beside Doyle. Jake joined them with a third chair to the side.

Watching them, anguish filled Sami’s chest. All three shared something special. Nicky was an orphan now. Doyle had his electronic cave for company. Jake spent his life living a lie.

They were all loners.

Shaking off the sadness, she wandered down the hall to the kitchen. Flicking on the light she found the coffee maker and filters. It would probably be a long night.

Looking out the closed slats of the kitchen blinds, she watched the clouds flit past the moon, thinking about the lonely existence of the men and boy in the other room. It hit too close to home for her peace of mind.

Ever since Aimee died she’d found herself more and more isolated. Oh, she didn’t blame it on anyone in particular. Although Michael’s leaving didn’t help the situation much. No, she knew she had only herself to blame.

Her grief had moved in like an indolent relative, parked itself in her life and took over every aspect of it. She’d made it her best friend. Daily, she had breakfast with it, took it everywhere with her and at night it was the last thing she thought about before exhaustion set in. She’d lived with it so long every joint and muscle ached from it.

Finally she’d had enough. As a trained professional she should’ve recognized how low she’d sunk and how dangerous her decision to end her pain had been. If she’d seen these symptoms in a patient she would’ve moved heaven and earth for an intervention by family members or psychiatric professionals.

But what happened when you were the patient? What did you do when the loneliness and grief felt like an anvil lying on your chest? How did you stop from taking the only solution you thought open to you?

That’s how she’d hatched the plan to double fill the sleeping pill prescriptions she’d gotten the docs to write for her. When she’d left the ER that night, she’d known within twenty-four hours all her pain and loneliness would have ended.

Only she hadn’t planned on Jake Carlisle invading her life and forcing her to snap out of her depression.

A half-smile pressed past her lips. Since the big lug shattered her depressed existence, she hadn’t had much time to wallow in her own self-pity. And Jake hadn’t steered away from the topic of Aimee’s leukemia once he found out, either, unlike her family and co-workers. They all acted like she’d burst into a million pieces if she heard her daughter’s name or spoke of Aimee’s death.

Maybe the time had come to let Aimee rest. Her daughter deserved to know peace. God knows she’d suffered enough for it.

Sami’s skin tingled.

Without turning around, she knew Jake stood in the doorway watching her. She drew her hand over her eyes, pinching the corners at the bridge of her nose to prevent the tears that threatened. Exhaustion played havoc with her emotions.

“You okay?”

His baritone voice rumbled over her. A shiver ran up her spine, this time from pleasure and not fear.

“I’m just a little tired, that’s all.” Sami busied herself setting out coffee mugs. She opened the door of the refrigerator in search of milk. “Any luck with the pictures, yet?”

“It’s a long shot at best. If the guy worked on the force in the past ten years, Doyle should have a file on him somewhere. At least I feel like we’re doing something about it for once, instead of just running and hiding.”

“Or being shot at.” Sami couldn’t hide the shudder that ran through her.

He moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her. Still holding the milk as if it had some miracle cure inside to the problems they faced, she gave into the need to feel the comfort of his body and leaned against him. His scent filled her senses. Would she ever smell cinnamon again and not think of him?

“I wish I could promise that there won’t be any more shooting,” he whispered against the top of her head. “But I won’t lie to you. I don’t know anymore than you do at this point. Except, remember we’re all well trained. Have faith in your brothers, Doyle and me to finish this thing.”

“I can’t bear the thought of telling my parents any of them are dead. It’s the worst thing in the world to know you out lived your child.” Another deeper shudder ran through her. Like a knight protecting his lady, his arms tightened around her to ward off the pain and worry that beat at her.

“Shh, sweetheart, let’s not borrow trouble just yet. If it comes to the point you have to tell your parents bad news, I’ll help you do it. Until then, let’s think only positive things about the trap. Okay?”

Sami nodded. His words made sense. For a few more minutes she stood letting him hold and comfort her. Deep inside she felt a peace she couldn’t ever remember feeling. It thrilled her. It scared her.

Somewhere she found the strength to break the bond with him and resume making them coffee. These feelings would have to wait until after they’d assured Nicky’s safety. If, by some miracle, they all escaped this mess fairly unscathed, and these newly awakened emotions remained, then she’d explore them. If Jake let her.

“You need some help with that?” Jake stood a few feet away from her. Yet not so far away he couldn’t assist her if she needed it. She realized he needed the distance, too

Sami shook her head. “Do you or Doyle like cream or sugar?”

“No, old cops learn to drink it black.” A rueful smile split his lips. “We grab it on the run, despite the jokes about donut shops.”

A snicker escaped her. “My brother, Dave, gained a lot of weight right after he got married. When I kept mentioning donut shops and cops to him, he got mad and worked out until he lost all the extra pounds.”

Jake shot her a curious look. “How often did you mention it to him?”

“At least daily, by e-mail and phone.”

“You two going to talk til that coffee gets cold?” Doyle yelled from down the hall.

Jake reached for two of the mugs. “The old man loves his coffee.”

“How did he hurt his hip?” Sami whispered.

“A little more than five years ago I was recruited into the FBI and left the force. Doyle took on a new partner, a kid out of college who was studying to be a lawyer.” He studied the dark liquid in the two mugs in his hand. “The kid never could keep his mind on being a cop. He and Doyle went out on a call late one night. Doyle chased the perp down an alley. The kid was supposed to block the exit with the car.”

“Only he didn’t?”

“The kid wasn’t fast enough. When the perp shot out the alley, Doyle’s partner knew he’d fouled up and gunned the gas.”

Sami cringed. “And Doyle was right behind the suspect.”

“Broke the old man’s leg and hip right at the socket joint in four places, virtually shattering it.”

“Did he have a total hip replacement?” Sami picked up the last mug of coffee, the one doctored heavily with cream and sugar, and the glass of milk for Nicky.

“With the best surgeon in town. That’s the only reason he isn’t in a wheelchair, but the damage was so bad, that Doyle had to take disability and early retirement.”

Jake stepped aside to let her pass her body brushing against his as she squeezed through the doorway. The intimate contact reminded her of how they spent the night before. Suddenly she wished she had a cold glass of tea instead of hot coffee.

“I bet he just hates it.” She led the way down the hall, then paused a few feet from the den and lowered her voice to a whisper. “What happened to the cop who hit him? I hope he isn’t still on the force.”

Jake narrowed the space between them, his breath warm against her skin. “The guy’s mother was some bigwig downtown. She got him removed from the force without even a citation to his record.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Well, the guy’s mama got him out of hot water, but it did cost them a few bucks. Doyle did receive a mighty big boost to his retirement fund.”

She lifted her brows in surprise. “He took it?”

Jake nodded toward the den then grinned down at her. “I’d say he’s invested it well, wouldn’t you?”

“All that equipment?”

“The house, and the start-up fund for his PI business.”

“You two done whispering out there?” Irritation laced Doyle’s gravelly voice from just inside the room.

Jake lowered his voice even more. “Don’t let him know I told you all this. He’s touchy about it.” Once more he nudged Sami into the room, but this time she didn’t mind quite so much.

* * *

By two in the morning, Jake knew Nicky couldn’t pick out the guy known as Madson from the file pictures Doyle had on line. If the guy that betrayed him was on the force, he didn’t exist on Doyle’s computer system.

“Nye photographia, Jake.”
No more pictures, Jake
. Nicky whined, his head lying on his arm on the computer desk. He’d regressed to speaking in Russian, a sure sign of his exhaustion.

“Eta vashnee, Nicholai.”
It’s important, Nicholai
. Jake rubbed his hand over the boy’s dark hair and neck.

Doyle pushed away from the computer. “We’re all worn out, Rookie. How about we tuck this little fella in bed for the night. We can start again in the morning.” He pushed Nicky’s chair to the side. “Besides, Miss Sami is out cold.”

In the wingback chair, Samantha lay curled in a ball, her feet tucked daintily beneath her, and her face pressed into the side of her arm. He doubted she was as comfortable as she looked.

He shook her awake, then lifted Nicky in his arms. “You still have that room with the twin beds upstairs, old man?”

“Same as when you helped me move it in.” Doyle stopped at a panel near the front door and pushed a sequence of buttons.

Jake didn’t remember seeing an alarm system when he reconnoitered the place earlier. “Why didn’t you have the alarms on when I first came in?”

“I’ve been following the news,” Doyle said as he led them to the bedrooms. “When I saw the crap hit the fan with Bridges’ death, I knew you’d be coming to see me sooner or later. Even you sometimes need the help of old friends you can trust.” He stepped into the first bedroom at the head of the stairs. “Working together is gonna be like old times.”

Jake showed Sami to the bathroom, then carried Nicky into the bedroom with the twin beds. Setting Nicky on one, he pushed it against the wall. Then he shoved the second bed from across the room next to it to make one large bed. He sat on the edge of the bed, brushing back the sheets and tucking Nicky inside them.

“Where am I sleeping?” Samantha asked quietly from the doorway.

“In here, sweetheart.” Jake stood and removed his jacket. He pulled his gun from the holster on his shoulder. He checked it and laid it on top of the beside table. Then he dragged the table to the outside of the new sleeping unit. He wanted the weapon within his reach. “Nicky near the wall, you in between, and me between you and the door and window. Tonight we sleep as one big happy family.”