Rescue Me (8 page)

Kat lifted her radio. “Com Van,
K-SAR-One.”

“Com Van,” Ed answered in his monotone radio
voice.

She held Dan's gaze and waited. When he did
nothing more than stare back at her, she made the call. “Freeze our
teams' positions.”

“Kathryn, don't do this.”

She whipped around. Spencer hurried up to
them. He heard her, no doubt courtesy of the receiver in his ear he
must have switched back on.

That smoky gaze held her in place. “What the
hell are you doing?”

“Bringing my teams in. I won't work with you
guys like this.”

“We need you,” he said, a strangled tone in
his voice.

“And I need the truth,” she snapped,
frustrated that she had to keep pushing them for answers. They were
all on the same side, weren't they?

“Sir?” Spencer looked to Weber. Kat glanced
at Weber as well and waited. He jerked his gaze to Spencer and gave
him a single nod.

Finally
. Relief washed through her,
steadying her pulse. Now they'd get somewhere. “Stand by, Com
Van.”

Spencer reached for her, shot a quick look to
Weber when the man cleared his throat, and dropped his hand.
“There's a—”

Weber's cell buzzed in his hand, pulling both
their attention to him as he answered. “What is it? Are you
shitting me? He's on his way here now? Son of a… How far out? Good.
I'll get my boys on it.” He ended the call and turned to Spencer.
“We're about to get some company.”

“Who?”

“Martin Miller.”

Spencer cursed in four languages. The search
was FUBAR right now. They didn't need a member of the board
arriving to see just how much they'd already screwed this up,
especially one emotionally connected to the subject.

While TREX expertly put up the wall tent in
record time and got it ready for its guest, Kathryn and Spencer sat
inside the Com Van and worked on their story. Martin Miller would
be there any second and they had to have every detail perfect or
he'd pick up on it. Coming from old money, he didn't need to work.
But that hadn't stopped him from joining TREX at the ripe age of
twenty-one. He'd retired after almost forty years and hundreds of
successful finds under his belt. The man's instincts put Lyons to
shame.

Spencer ground his teeth together as
frustration and unease mixed in his blood. Tension tightened his
body. This was never going to work. He lied for a living and had no
problem with the story they'd come up with. Kathryn, however, saw
right through him. Even though she knew her part in the plan, the
minute he gave his side, his deceit showed in her eyes.

Those eyes narrowed as her pretty lips turned
down. Color splashed her cheeks while heartbreak washed through her
expression. And damn if he didn't feel her heart breaking as lie
after lie rolled easily off his tongue. TREX agents were trained to
lie with conviction. If she couldn't deal with that, it was her
problem, not his.

“Let's go through it one more time,” he
snarled.

Kathryn let out a long sigh. “I know nothing.
I am but a mere pawn in this game you're playing with a little
boy's life.”

He looked at her, his eyes burning. “Are you
through?”

“I know my side, Spence.” She rubbed her neck
and closed her eyes. “It's you who needs work. Your lying
sucks.”

“I happen to be a very good liar.”

She opened her eyes and nailed him with
another one of those icy glares.

“When Martin Miller gets here, you stay in
the Com Van. Only come out if I radio for you.”

“And then only answer his questions if you
give me the okay.” She sucked in her lower lip between her teeth
and bit down. “This doesn't feel right. Why are we keeping anything
from Tommy's family? They have a right to know the truth.”

“They have a right to know we are out here
doing everything we can to find him,” Spencer countered. “We tell
them what they want to hear to keep them happy. Nothing more. This
is no different than any other search we've been on together.”

Kathryn laughed bitterly and shook her head.
“Unfortunately, that's true. I don't think I've gotten the full
story on any of our searches.” She lifted her gaze to his,
waiting.

Too damn bad. He wasn't about to open up
those old wounds.

“One more time.”

She took a breath but quickly exhaled when
the sound of gravel crunching under tires caught their attention. A
black four-door Mercedes with smoked windows pulled up and stopped
next to the Com Van. Martin Miller stepped out, his steely gray
eyes immediately assessing the surroundings. For as long as Spencer
had known the man, he kept his white hair cut military style, flat
on the top and buzzed short on the sides. Any resemblance to
military stopped at the neck, though. It looked like that dark suit
cost more than a year's salary.

Miller walked around and opened the passenger
door, and a thin whisper of a woman stepped out, shocking the shit
out of Spencer. Who the hell was that?

“I bet that's the mother,” Kathryn answered
his unasked question. “Who is this family? The grandfather is
wearing a ten-thousand dollar suit. The mother is in a fur coat.
That had better not be real.”

“I'll be sure to file a complaint with PETA,”
he drawled and then shrugged when she shot him a look.

The back passenger's side door opened.
Spencer moved away from the table and approached the window. “Who
do we have here?”

Out stepped a tall man dressed in all black
with slicked back hair that matched his clothing and receded into a
widow's peak, paired with a pointed goatee covering his chin. He
had on dark sunglasses and curled his lip in obvious disapproval of
the entire scene as he slowly took in his surroundings.

Kathryn joined Spencer. “He looks like he
realized he just stepped in something.”

The man removed his sunglasses and rested
black-as-coal eyes on the window. He didn't meet Spencer's gaze,
which told him he had to be looking at Kathryn. Spencer
stiffened.

“Showtime. Stay here.” Spencer stepped out of
the Com Van and approached their guests. He stretched out his hand
to Martin Miller first. “Sir. We have the wall tent set up for you
and your…” he paused and let that hang, knowing Miller would
finish.

“My daughter. Martha, this is Spencer.”

Spencer picked up the fact that Miller didn't
use his title and ran with it. “Spencer Allen, ma'am.” He took her
hand. He then turned to the other male when Miller didn't introduce
him. Hell, he didn't even acknowledge him. “And you are?”

“Damon Salazar. I'm Martha's boyfriend.”

Spencer kept his attention on Salazar but in
his peripheral he didn't miss the way Miller thrust out his chin at
Salazar's announcement. Daddy didn't care much for the boyfriend.
Good to know.

“If you all will follow me to the tent, we
can get you settled in.”

Miller glanced at the smoke lazily rising out
of the tent's chimney. He then gave Spencer a nod and the family
followed him inside.

Holy shit. The team definitely did a great
job at building up the fire in the portable wood stove. It had to
be eighty degrees in this thing. He was about to offer to unzip one
of the flaps covering a screen when Martha spoke in a quiet voice.
“It feels nice in here.”

“Can I get anyone some coffee?”

“Enough playing host,” Miller barked.
“Where's my grandson?”

“We're doing everything we can, sir.”

Martha's chin quivered as she melted into one
of the chairs at the round table in the center of the tent. “I just
don't understand why he was even up here.”

Interesting. So Miller didn't tell his
daughter the real reason behind Tommy's disappearance. Spencer
stole a quick glance at Salazar. He looked bored. All heart, that
one.

“Have you checked the cabin again?” Miller
asked.

“Yes, sir.”

Miller thinned his lips and practically
growled. “Maybe you missed something.”

And maybe you should let me do my job
.
“We have a team on the cabin in case Tommy returns.”

“Where are the Robinsons?”

Spencer kept his expression still as he
studied Miller, waiting for clarification.

Miller added, “The Swiss family Tommy was up
here with.”

Ah. Those Robinsons. He'd been forced to read
Swiss Family Robinson
in high school and knew all about the
Robinson family that had been abandoned by the crew when the ship
ran aground. They were survivalists. Resourceful. And pretty damn
lucky.

At least the kidnappers had two out of three
going for them.

“They are up here as well.” He gave Miller a
look before immediately stealing another glance Salazar's way. Was
he checking his nails? Why in the hell wasn't he comforting his
girlfriend?

Spencer's suspicion mounted. Salazar had his
sunglasses on inside the tent. He stood a good two feet from his
girlfriend. When he caught Spencer studying him, he stepped forward
and rested his hands on Martha's petite shoulders.

Miller noticed the gesture as well and
clearly didn't appreciate it. “Spencer, why don't you and I see to
that coffee?”

As soon as they exited the tent, Miller
started in, his voice barely audible. “What the fuck is going on,
Allen? Where's my grandson?”

Spencer hated having to cater to Miller,
simply because he was on the board. This man led the witch hunt
against Spencer that nearly ended his career with TREX, all because
of his relationship with Kathryn. What right did he have to demand
a goddamn thing?

But then the reality of the situation crashed
down. This wasn't about Miller. It wasn't about Spencer. It was
about a little boy who needed to be returned to his family.

“We'll find him, sir.”

“Cut the bullshit. It's just you and me.” His
steely gaze bore into him. “What happened out there? It was
supposed to be a simple flash and grab.”

Spencer debated whether to brief him with the
truth or make up some story to pacify him. As a member of the
board, Miller had the authority to pull the intel up after a find.
Even if Spencer lied to him, the man would eventually get the
truth. If that didn't come from Spencer now, he'd end up in front
of the board to justify his actions.

The truth wins. “We've got three dead
kidnappers. Two males and a female.”

“So who has Tommy?”

“Intel only has three kidnappers. One male
dead in the cabin. The other two dead together about a mile north.”
He kept the details of the blood they found out of it. Miller
didn't need to know about Tommy's wound at the moment. Spencer
would take whatever punishment for withholding the information, but
he wasn't about to add to the stress level if he didn't have
to.

“Why haven't you told them the truth?”
Spencer nodded at the tent.

“Those bastards took Tommy right out from
under me. That alone left a message. These guys are pros.
Mercs.”

“I had that same thought. They told you not
to involve authorities, right?”

“Of course.”

“Where's the father in all this? I notice
Tommy has the same last name as you, as does your daughter.”

“The father was nothing more than a sperm
donor. He disappeared well before Tommy was born.”

“Could he be back and looking for the title
of Father of the Year?”

Miller shook his head. “He died in a
motorcycle accident in California three years ago. It's not him. He
was a James Dean type. Martha fell for him. She likes the bad
boys.” He glared at the tent.

Salazar.

“What else can you tell me?”

“Before the drop, I got a text from a burner
phone.” Miller's eyes shined as he fought to keep his expression
firm, his chin steady. He stared off into the distance as he
recited the text. “'
Tell anyone about the drop and Tommy dies.
We are watching and will know
.' That's why I called in TREX. I
had no idea they'd find out. Jesus Christ, Allen. I killed my own
grandson by calling you in.”

Shit. Spencer's jaw clenched at that little
bit of intel. “Why didn't you tell anyone about the text?”

“I didn't think it mattered.”

Why in the fuck would he think a text from
the kidnappers didn't matter?

Miller swung his swollen gaze back to
Spencer. “How did they find out about you?” That accusatory look in
Miller's eyes pissed him off.

He rested his gaze on Miller and waited
several seconds for his temper to settle. “Who else knows the truth
behind Tommy's disappearance?”

“Only TREX.” The accusation in his glare grew
critical.

“There's no leak within TREX. Someone else
has to know. Your daughter thinks Tommy was up here camping with
friends?”

“That's right. I told her I trusted the
Robinsons and that Tommy would be just fine.” His chin quivered.
The guilt had to be tearing him up.

Spencer hardened himself against the emotions
threatening to break Martin Miller. “What about Salazar?”

“Damon? He's worthless. No job. He
practically lives with Martha, mooching off her.”

“When did they meet?”

“Three months ago at the park.”

“Does he have kids?”

“No.”

Salazar's appearance three months before
Tommy's kidnapping was more than a coincidence. Spencer would bet
his life on it. Grown men didn't frequent the park unless they had
reason to, like a chance meeting with the mother of his mark. “Then
why was he at a park?”

“He was jogging by and Martha spilled her
coffee on him. It was completely random.” He blinked as his eyes
cleared and he settled back into the role of ex-agent. “Do you
think he has something to do with this?”

Until Spencer had proof, he didn't want to
fuel Miller's hatred for his daughter's boyfriend. “I'm just trying
to cover all my bases. I'll get our intelligence division to do a
full background on him.”