KIDNAPPED, A Romantic Suspense Novel (26 page)

“Or one very scared one.” Samantha laid her coat on top of Jake’s, then sat to take off her shoes. He stopped her.

“Leave them on.” Her eyes clouded with concern, her lips firming into a thin line as she understood his message. “Just in case.”

She wiggled onto the bed and tucked the blankets around herself and Nicky. Jake turned off the lights then climbed in next to her. He stretched out on his back, then flopped his right arm above his head and listened to them breath in the dark.

A few minutes passed.

Samantha’s hand slipped into his right hand where it lay between them. “Just in case,” she whispered.

After a few minutes her hand relaxed in sleep, but still he held onto it. In the dark of the night, as the old house settled around them, and he listened for the sounds of someone, anyone, who might want to harm them, he wondered about the strength of this woman beside him.

Since the moment he grabbed her, she’d been in danger, tied up, shot at, in hiding. Yet except for the one attempt to escape before she knew his need for her, she hadn’t uttered one complaint.

Doyle’s words were so wrong.

If they managed to emerge unscathed from this mess, nothing in his life would ever be like old times.

* * *

The soft shuffle of Doyle’s feet on the hall floor and down the stairs brought Jake instantly awake just before dawn. He lay on his side, his back to the door, curled quite comfortably around Samantha’s back. She, in turn, had one arm draped protectively around Nicky.

Just like a family.

For a moment he gave into the fantasy. Pushing back the veil of her dark tresses lying on her neck and shoulders, he kissed the sleep-warmed flesh of her shoulder. Slowly he kissed his way up her neck to nibble lightly on her ear lobe.

She rewarded his efforts by pressing her bottom against his decidedly interested groin.

“Mmm…” she purred.

With a groan, Jake released her ear and pushed himself away from her all-too-tempting body. He cursed himself as ten times a fool for indulging in tasting her when he couldn’t promise her anything now and maybe not later, either. Too bad his body didn’t seem to understand the situation like his mind.

“Jake?”

The come-back-to-bed softness in her voice called to him. He closed his eyes, fighting the urge to curl around her once more.

“Go back to sleep, Samantha. I need to talk to Doyle before he heads out.”

Without looking back, he snatched his gun off the bedside table. Slipping it into his holster, he pulled the holster onto his shoulder. Like a tourist fleeing a grizzly bear in Yellowstone park, he nearly ran out of the room. He prevented the door from slamming shut on his escape from the room, barely. Once out in the safety of the hall, he slumped against the wall, rubbing his hand through his thick hair, then down over the fresh stubble of his beard.

Things were going to get hairy today. He needed to keep his wits about him. He needed to focus, not on Samantha’s soft curves, but on closing down the crime gang and discovering the identity of Madson. If he didn’t do both, Nicky and Samantha would never be safe.

A few minutes later, Jake found Doyle in his den, studying a computerized map of the city’s old industrial district. Several red X’s dotted the map. Jake straddled a chair again. Squinting, he tried to decipher Doyle’s plan.

“What’s all this, old man?”

“The red X’s stand for empty warehouses. Places empty and ripe for an ambush.”

With the mouse, Jake highlighted in blue an area northwest of the city’s business district, but south of the University’s grounds. “Most of this area is controlled by the Kreshnins. Any warehouses inside that area is a death trap for us.”

“We need to stay inside the city limits or we risk pissing off the suburban police forces.” Doyle circled the spot northeast of I-71. “I used to patrol here after you moved to the feds. Some sound buildings sit empty here. And my network is still pretty active in that area.”

“Can you think of someone who has enough contacts to get word to the Kreshnins that Samantha’s brothers want to hand me over to them?”

Doyle leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hip out of habit. “Do you want to follow the drug or the extortion connection?”

“I’d like to keep the
drug gangs out of this, if possible. Too many loose cannons for my peace of mind.”

“Extortion it is. We’ll need someone they might’ve used as a bagman or number runner, then.” Doyle nodded his agreement. “I’ll do a walk around downtown while the businesses are opening. I’ve two guys in mind that might be able to help us. How do you plan to contact the little lady’s brothers?”

“Luke is going to leave me a message on e-mail. We’ll have to coordinate this carefully. I’m pretty sure the feds are watching them.”

Doyle wrote both letters and numbers on one of the plethora of sticky pads lying on his wall length desk. “This is the code to the computers. I need to be off to see a man about a mouse trap.”

He limped out the door, parka in hand. A few minutes later, Jake heard the rumble of the old Chevette pull out of the drive and the garage door close behind it.

The old man was a throwback to the foot patrolmen at the beginning of the twentieth century. There wasn’t a person he’d met on his patrol rounds that he didn’t remember something about. The homeless and the business proprietors alike counted on him to help them with problems. In return they kept their eyes and ears open for information that might prove useful on one of his cases.

If anyone could get a message through to the Kreshnin gang, it would be Doyle.

Jake clicked on another of Doyle’s computers bringing up the search engine he used for messages. The time had come to see what Samantha’s brothers had found out. When he typed in his code, a little envelope popped up, telling him he had received messages. The one marked Fairy Tales caught his eye. He clicked on it and a coded message appeared.

“Is there any word yet?”

The soft sleepy sound of Samantha’s voice caressed him from behind.

Damn. He’d hoped to read the message before she found out. If it contained bad news, he wanted to protect her from it, or at least prepare her first. Now he prayed it said nothing.

Stealing his features, he swivelled around in the computer chair. The anguish in her eyes, and the way she had her arms wrapped around herself, twisted his gut.

He motioned for her to sit on his knee. “Matt and I agreed to this before they left the cabin. It’s in a code that looks like one of the myriad of jokes and chain mails that are circulating through cyberspace.”

A strained sound, halfway between a laugh and a sigh escaped her. “Dave’s wife, Judy constantly overload’s my e-mail with those things. We call her Queen of the forward button.”

Samantha leaned closer to peer at the message. Jake willed his body not to think about the softness of her bottom sliding along the length of his thigh.

“The three little pigs?” she asked with a hint of a smile.

Good. She’d gotten the joke. Her sense of humor hadn’t died under all the stress. 

“Luke decided on that, since they’re all in some sort of law enforcement.” Jake scanned the mouse the length of the note quickly. “Good news, sweetheart. They’re both safe at home.”

She tilted her head sideways, one eye brow lifted in puzzlement. “How do you know that?”

“Let’s read the whole thing.” He ran the cursor down the screen as he read. “Two of the three little pigs went hiking in the forest and met the three bears. The papa bear turned out to be a friend, the mama bear was mean to the pigs, and the baby bear was very smart.” He chuckled. “Seems your brothers thought you should’ve been nicer to them.”

“That
was
nice.” Her lip lowered in a half pout, half frown. “What else does it say?”

“The second little pig went home to prepare for the wolf and talk to the first little pig. The first little pig is mad because he didn’t get to go on the hike. But is glad he get’s to come play at the big party.”

“Dave’s mad because they didn’t tell him they were coming to find us. But he’s coming tomorrow, right?”

Jake nodded. “The third little pig went to play with his computer. He promised to give Papa Bear an invitation to the big party.” Jake indulged himself a minute by rubbing his hand along Sami’s hip and thigh. “Matt spent the night at home and Luke went looking for information.”

“The big party? That’s the plan for meeting the Kreshnins, isn’t it?” Her muscles stiffened beneath his hand.

He continued to gently rub her thigh, in the only comforting way he knew. “I know you’re worried about this meet, but if everyone does their part, Nicky will be safe by morning.”

She lifted her head to stare away from him. He gently grasped her chin and pulled her face around to look at him.

“Samantha. It’s the only way.”

The anguish and desperation in her eyes tore at his heart.

“Why not go to your people at the FBI? Surely they can stop the Kreshnins’ man on the police force.”

“We don’t know that it is the police, Samantha. It could be someone in the federal government. Besides, my cover was so deep for the past three years, that I don’t know anyone I can trust there anymore.” The urge to comfort her fought with his need for complete honesty between them. He stroked a finger down the curve of her lower lip. “Until we know for sure, we can only trust your brothers and Doyle.”

She nodded, then inhaled deeply. “I haven’t felt this way in a long time. I couldn’t stand it if something bad happened tonight.”

“I swear to you,” he held her hand tight. “You and Nicky will be safely tucked right here in Doyle’s war room. Nothing bad will happen to either of you.”

Her eyes softened. She cupped his face with both hands. “Don’t you understand? I’m not worried about Nicky or myself.”

“It’s all going to work out all right, sweetheart.” This time Jake looked away. He couldn’t hear what she said so plainly without words. He eased her off his lap and strode across the room to the computer with the maps on it. “I’m tougher than you think.”

Her hand touched his shoulder from behind, branding his wound like a hot iron. “You aren’t indestructible, Jake.”

It took all his determination to focus on the maps Doyle had marked and not take her into his arms. When he heard her footsteps on the stairs above, his hand touched the same spot on his wounded shoulder where hers had touched. “If you only knew how vulnerable I’ve become, sweetheart.”

In self-defense, his mind zeroed in on the area he and Doyle determined they should set the trap. He hoped the old man knew what he was doing.

In the meantime, he picked up Doyle’s phone and dialed a number only his captain and he used. Time to involve his only contact at the DA’s office. If something happened to him, he wanted to know Samantha and Nicky would have someone to watch over them.

* * *

Heated air from the underground sewers rose like gray specters as it hit the cold morning air. Doyle parked his non-discript brown car in the downtown parking lot. He eased his body out of the driver’s seat, stood next to the car and waited for the cramp in his hip to release its grip on his joint. Even though walking the downtown streets gave him a sense of deja vu back to his patrol days, his crippled leg always brought reality crashing in.

When Jake landed on his doorstep last night, anger and relief had flooded over Doyle—anger that his old partner still hadn’t asked for help when he found himself in this situation at the beginning, relief that Jake finally came to him for help when he needed it the most. Now, Doyle had a chance to show the Rookie he could depend on friends for help.

Jake deserved some happiness.

Doyle rubbed a hand over his hip. He’d always liked Jake, but after his accident he’d learned just what kind of a man he was. From the time he awoke in the hospital recovery room after his accident, until his last physical therapy treatment, the kid had encouraged and nagged him by equal turns, until he’d been capable of walking without anyone’s help. Even though some debts could never be repaid, he meant to try. He had a feeling the little lady and boy back at his house might just be the key to Jake’s future.

Doyle started off to search the small downtown businesses’ alleys and backdoors. He needed to find a semi-bookie, part-time truck driver, full-time loser, named Lyle.

Downtown buzzed with a life of its own in the early morning hours before the lawyers, businessmen, and secretaries commuted to work. While restaurant supply trucks dropped off fresh produce and frozen meats every morning, garbage trucks picked up the previous night’s refuse, and store-owners shooed the homeless from their doorways where they’d curled up for protection from the cold night winds.

This was the underbelly of the teaming metropolis. People here saw things, knew things, heard things. Just the kind of information Doyle gathered and filed away for future use.

It took several blocks, but when he turned the corner onto Main, just east of High Street, there stood Lyle, talking to an even more disreputable looking guy. Lyle wrote something on a piece of paper, then took the man’s money.

Doyle hesitated just long enough for Lyle’s mark to move on down the road before approaching the worm. If anyone could weasel information to the Kreshnins, it was Lyle. The guy had more tentacles into the outer edges of the city’s crime scene than a set of Siamese octopuses.

Doyle edged closer in the gray morning light, trying not to send his prey skittering off into a back alleyway. Even though all his contacts knew he’d retired early from the force, occasionally for some damn reason they took it into their heads to make him chase them. Today, neither he nor his hip were in the mood.

Just as Lyle turned to climb behind the wheel of his paper delivery truck, Doyle snagged his arm with his firm grip. “Good to see you so industrious this morning, Lyle.”

The snitch stiffened, trying to pull away before he realized it was Doyle who had him cornered against his truck, and not some other low-life meaning to put an end to his existence.