Surrender to a Donovan (Kimani Romance) (13 page)

Sean frowned. “I don’t think I like that statement.”

“You shouldn’t,” Dion chimed in as he entered the office and closed the door. “It makes you sound like a ninny.”

The men chuckled, feeling their closeness as they all gathered around the table. When there was a board meeting they sat with their fathers at the heads of the table and with Regan tossed somewhere in the middle. But this planning session was only for them. They’d handle it from here and then present to the board as a united front. It worked every time.

An hour and a half later, they’d ironed out all the kinks in the program’s schedule and were just about to order themselves a late lunch of pizza. Which lead to one of their greatest recurring debates.

“No onions or anchovies,” Dion said adamantly.

“Man, you’re such a punk. What’s pizza without the works?” Parker retorted.

Savian shook his head. “I have another meeting this evening. I don’t want to smell like pizza-parlor funk when I go. Onions and anchovies are sick, Parker.”

“Extra cheese,” was Sean’s only recommendation. He was cool with most of the other toppings. Besides, there was no need to chime in about the onions and anchovies, because they never won out anyway.

The sound of his door almost being knocked off its hinges silenced all four of the guys. Then there was a loud buzzing from his desk phone.

“Mr. Donovan, Ms. Dennison is here. She says it’s an emergency,” Gayle announced through the intercom.

Sean was up and out of his seat in seconds, going to the door to wrench it open. Tate all but fell into his arms. The first thing he noticed, besides the fact that she was out of breath, was that she was crying. His entire body clenched at the sight, fury bubbling raw inside.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, cupping her face in his hands.

“It’s Briana.” She shook her head, tears steadily streaming. “They can’t find her! She’s gone, Sean! Gone!”

Dion, Savian and Parker had already come from the table to see what was going on.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Dion asked.

She didn’t even look at them, she couldn’t. All she could hear was the sound of the day-care principal’s shaking voice through the phone as she told Tate that her baby had gone missing from their outing to the park.

“She’s gone. Gone,” she said, and she would have crumpled right to the floor if Sean hadn’t caught her.

Chapter 19

T
he Big House had been set up as their central location. It was the only place where all the family could gather as they waited for news.

Devlin, who had been watching the building where Sean and Tate worked, was angry beyond words at the man he’d assigned to watch Briana at the day care. The guy had been absolutely useless—he’d been sitting in his car on his cell phone when Briana was taken. Needless to say, the guy wouldn’t be working for Devlin or D&D Investigations anymore, nor anyplace else in the United States for that matter.

The day-care workers had been questioned relentlessly, first by Sean and Tate, then by Devlin—which was not a pretty sight in the least—and finally by the local police. They hadn’t seen anything. It was official that when they found Briana, she would not be returning to that facility for child care.

Janean was in a state when they’d told her about Briana. She’d attempted to mask her worry with a continual rant about subpar child care in the state and across the country. Sean feared that when this was all over there’d be a Donovan Day Care somewhere with Janean spearheading the effort.

As for Tate, she sat in the same spot in the sunroom he’d guided her to two hours ago. She wouldn’t drink, wouldn’t eat, didn’t talk, didn’t even look at anyone. Her gaze stayed transfixed on the window, on the pool and the grass outside, where Briana had just played yesterday.

“Patrick Dennison is still locked up tight,” Devlin said.

He stood in the doorway of the room, his all-black attire and brooding looks fitting perfectly with the somber mood. Last night, before the police appearance, the mood had been festive, communal so Devlin had blended into the background but was ever watchful.

Sean thought with a sigh that maybe he should have had Devlin stay with Briana. He and Tate could have taken the other, less attentive guard. But that was a futile thought, just as guilt was a useless emotion. There had been no reason to fear for Briana’s safety. They’d thought Tate was the target, or more likely some object in Tate’s apartment. Who would have ever considered that Briana might be pulled into this?

“We should expect a ransom note soon,” Savian said. In his hands he held a piping-hot cup of coffee. He sat in a chair just across from where Tate had taken up residence. His gaze rested on her more times than Sean could count, which meant his cousin was worried. He wanted to reach out, to extend his comfort, but Savian wasn’t good with emotions, so he just stayed close instead.

“What makes you think that?” Regan asked. She wore tight black pants today, a fuchsia-embossed tunic that came to her thighs and mile-high black boots. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail that stretched to her buttocks with the added hair. Her makeup was flawless, but for the frown on her face. She stood near the window about four feet from where Tate was looking outside.

“She works for the Donovans, is living with a Donovan. It’s got to be about money,” Savian said simply.

Lyra shook her head. “Not everything’s about money.” Her reply was soft, almost as if she herself didn’t believe those words.

“But Dennison is looking for something. He came back here because he said Tate had something of his. What if he had someone take Briana as some sort of blackmail plot?” Dion asked.

Bruce had been standing near his wife at the sink. Janean acted as if she were perfectly fine and did not need any support. But Sean knew better, and he kept a watchful eye on his mother as he sat next to Tate.

Uncle Reggie cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. He’d recently cut his salt-and-pepper hair very close because the front had begun receding. He still looked sharp in his perfectly creased brown dress slacks and lightweight beige sweater.

“I don’t know that this Dennison character sounds smart enough to pull off a kidnapping. Especially since he’s in jail. He sounds more impulsive and prone to mess up than someone intelligent enough to orchestrate something like this.”

Devlin nodded. “I agree. This had to be perfectly planned. Someone knew the day care would go on this outing. They knew when they’d be at the park and when Briana would most likely be alone for the taking.”

There was a loud clanking as one of the coffee cups Janean was drying slipped out of her hand and fell into the stainless-steel sink. “Who leaves a two-year-old alone? That’s just ridiculous. It’s reprehensible! They should be fired or…or…shot!” she yelled finally.

And that’s when Tate broke down.

With a gasp, she lowered her head, her shoulders shuddering with the intensity of the tears that broke free. Sean put his arm around her, pulled her to him and whispered in her ear.

“We’ll find her, baby. If it’s the last thing I do, we’ll find her.”

But his words were only partial consolation. Tate wanted her daughter in her arms right this moment. She wanted to smell the sweet scent of baby powder as she cuddled her close, wanted to feel the growing weight of Briana’s body in her arms as she carried her to bed. She wanted to wipe more food splatters from the floor and the high chair and smile as she listened to Briana’s infectious laughter.

Sitting here doing nothing wasn’t helping. It was torture, and she felt like breaking through that window and running outside to call out to her daughter. But Briana wouldn’t hear her, Tate knew this. She wouldn’t hear her mother’s voice calling her name because she didn’t know where her mother was. Her daughter was with a stranger, probably scared and hungry or wet and just as uncomfortable as Tate was right now.

Her heart pounded in slow, useless beats, and she heaved and gushed on Sean’s shoulder. She’d been doing this on and off since she’d gotten the call. There had been no question that she’d go to Sean. Her feet had taken to the stairs at work like lightning as she’d forgone the elevator. Gayle, Sean’s assistant, had looked almost afraid to talk to her when she’d turned the corner to where Sean’s office was. And when she’d gone right past her without saying a word to bang on his locked door, the poor woman had almost fainted.

He’d pulled her into his arms then, just as he was doing now, and she felt the warmth of him so close, the steady beat of his heart, the rock-solid form his presence signified. She could lean on him, and she did. When she couldn’t stand, he picked her up. Now, when words failed her, he held her and said what she needed to hear, even if they were words neither of them could promise.

“Lord, help us,” Janean said from across the room, her own tears breaking her down. Bruce had stood there for a reason, and he pulled his wife into his arms.

Sniffles erupted throughout the room, but Tate couldn’t see who they came from. All around were people who cared, who wanted Briana back safely just as Tate did. It seemed like eons since she’d felt this type of undying support. Her heart was heavy with that realization as well.

When it was all too much, she pushed away from Sean and struggled to stand. He stood with her, his hand on the small of her back.

“I need some air,” she said, looking up at him through blurry eyes. “Walk with me.”

It hadn’t been a burden to ask. And just like when she’d gone to his office, there’d been no second thought. She couldn’t be alone. And why should she be when he was near?

He held her hand and walked her out of the room. They used the door where Devlin stood, and she watched him give Sean a nod. That probably meant he’d be right behind them, but Tate couldn’t bring herself to think about that. Her mind was full of much more important things.

Sean seemed to have a destination as he led her past the swimming pool, down a small incline to the wooden planks of what looked like their own private dock. When they stopped walking, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, leaning forward to whisper in her ear.

“I’m so sorry this is happening. But I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to get her back.”

“I believe you,” she said with a sigh. “I mean, I really do believe you. And I haven’t believed what came out of a man’s mouth for a while now.”

“I’m not any other man, Tate.”

She shook her head. “You definitely do not have to tell me that. I’ve never known anyone like you.”

There was a cool breeze blowing off the water as the sun set behind them. Tate turned in his arms, letting her forehead rest on his chest for a moment. He rubbed up and down her back, holding her close. She felt so safe, so protected, and she yearned for her baby to feel the same way.

“I’m glad we met,” she said softly, looking up at him. “I’m so glad that your cousin wanted to add me to the show or else you probably never would have come to my office. I’m glad we went to dinner and that you came when my apartment was broken into. You’re always saving me,” she said with a broken chuckle. “And I’m glad.”

“I wish this wasn’t happening to you,” he told her.

“Sean, I just want her back. If it’s Patrick, he can have everything in that damned apartment. I just want my baby back.”

“I want her back, too. And if it’s Patrick, he’s not getting a damned thing. But maybe my fist in his face again. My cousin has all the investigators in their Connecticut office working on this. We’re going to find her and we’re going to get the bastards that did this. They’re going to be sorry they ever messed with you.”

She shook her head. “No, they’re going to be sorry they ever messed with a Donovan.”

Chapter 20

“I
don’t care if you text him or email him or shout it off the damned rooftop!” she yelled. “Just get me my money!”

This was one crazy sistah, Butch thought with a frown as he walked out of the room and resisted the urge to slam the door shut behind him. But like her, he needed the money, too. His old lady was having their fourth child, and funds had been tight for the past couple of months. So tight they were being evicted next Monday morning if he didn’t come up with three months’ back rent plus grocery money.

A dude in jail had offered him three thousand, cash, if he took this kid and brought her to this address. Now this crazy chick was freakin’ out every ten seconds because the kid was crying and this wasn’t her responsibility and all this other BS.

Butch just wanted his cash.

But now that he’d had a moment to register the full situation, he figured that three thousand might be farther away than it was yesterday at this time when he was sitting at home playing spades with his homeboys.

He was getting too old for this crap, is what he was thinking as he pulled out his cell phone and punched in the number she’d given him. Butch had no idea who he was texting. He just assumed that this person was the kid’s parent and would pay whatever or do whatever psycho-chick in there wanted to get her child back.

So he typed in the message:

U want ur daughter? Meet me at 212 Lemoncage Way at midnight. Bring the key.

He had no idea what that meant, but he prayed it meant that his three thousand was only a few hours away from being in his hands. If not, and his old lady found out that he still didn’t have any money, Butch was going to be better off in jail for kidnapping.

* * *

“No. It’s out of the question,” Tate said adamantly. “She’s my daughter, so I’m the one who’s going.”

Sean wanted to yell back that she was “their” daughter, but he didn’t. He knew it was too sensitive of a time to bring up how badly he wanted them to be a family. He recognized that Tate was in a very precarious state right now; she was crying one minute, trying to be upbeat the next, and he was going to respect that. But what he wasn’t going to have was her thinking he would be some kind of punk and sit back while Briana was out there in the hands of some deranged kidnapper.

“I don’t know this number, Tate. But anyone can get my work cell number off our website, and whoever it is has Briana,” he told her seriously.

They were all back in the sunroom again, the dark evening sky making it necessary to turn on the inside lights. Janean had fixed a huge pot of chicken and rice and a jug of iced tea. Nobody was really in the mood to eat, but nobody was brave enough to tell Janean that either, so they ate.

That was about an hour ago. Ten minutes ago, Sean had received the text.

“Or they want you to think they have Briana,” Dion said. “What if it’s a false alarm?”

“We haven’t made any statements about Briana being missing. How would anyone else even know I was involved, unless they really had her?” Sean asked.

“But what’s this about a key?” Bruce asked. “Do you have any type of key?”

He was looking at Tate, which was making her more than a little nervous. But she cleared her throat and answered, “No. I don’t know about any key.”

“I’m going,” Sean said adamantly. “It’s eleven-thirty now. Lemoncage is at least twenty minutes away.”

“We need to leave now. I have two unmarked cars that are going to meet us there,” Devlin said solemnly and then reached into his pocket. “Here, take this.”

Sean took the key from his hand.

“Right, that’s going to work,” Regan said skeptically. “What if they want to try it out first? And what if your betrayal makes them mad and they shoot you or something?”

“Regan!” Caroline admonished her daughter as Janean dabbed at tearful eyes.

Regan crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m just covering all the bases.”

“She’s right. That’s why you shouldn’t go,” Tate said. “This isn’t your battle.”

Bruce walked to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “I know you don’t know us all that well yet, but my boys protect what’s theirs, no matter what the cost. He’s not going to back down, and unfortunately, honey, you’re gonna have to learn how to sit back and worry with the other womenfolk.”

He smiled at her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“He’s right,” Lyra chimed in. “They’re a stubborn bunch. He’s never going to listen to you. Best to just quit while you’re ahead.”

“Besides, I’m going with him. And Devlin and his backup will be there, too,” Dion said, going to stand beside Sean.

“Who said you were coming?” Sean asked.

Dion just shook his head. “You don’t even want to waste time arguing this with me.”

He was right. Sean didn’t want to waste any more time. He wanted to go get Briana. So he crossed the room to Tate. He took her out of his father’s protective grip and pulled her in for a tight hug. In her ear he whispered, “I’m going to bring our little girl home. Trust me.”

She didn’t respond right away and just kept her stubborn fists clenched at his chest, her head looking down. He said it again. “Trust me?”

After a few silent moments she nodded.

“Look at me,” he told her.

She did, and in her eyes Sean saw his future. Marriage, a house, a lavishly decorated bedroom for Briana and another child’s bedroom for the baby they would make together.

“I love you and Briana. I’m not going to lose my family when I’ve just found them. We have too much to do together.”

Her eyes pooled with tears, and her bottom lip trembled. Sean leaned in to kiss those lips. “Trust me?”

She nodded immediately. “I trust you.”

* * *

“I don’t trust this guy,” Dion said the minute Devlin’s black Hummer came to a stop at the corner of 212 Lemoncage.

“We don’t need to trust him. I just want to get Briana,” Sean said adamantly.

“That’s the goal here,” Devlin told him. “Get him to bring out Briana. You need proof that she’s alive and well. Then exchange her for the key.”

Dion shook his head. “I’ve got to agree with Regan, which isn’t always a good practice. But what if he wants to test the key out?”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it,” Sean said, stepping out of the car.

212 Lemoncage was a residential house. It was a split level that had been painted bright pink with white trimming. All of the windows were covered by bars, which gave Sean a sick and claustrophobic feeling. When they stepped up to the doorway, he wasn’t surprised to see that the screen door was made from the same bars that covered the windows. He turned a cracked gold knob and pulled the door open. When he felt Dion take the weight of the screened door from him, he knocked. For endless moments there was no answer. Then the door was cracked.

“You’re not alone,” a man Sean could barely see called out in a gruff voice.

“No. I’m not. You didn’t say to come alone.”

The man cursed. “All right, but I don’t have no weapons, so you don’t bring none in with you.”

Sean looked over his shoulder to Dion, who shrugged. He figured they were both thinking how stupid this guy had to be to think that by just telling them not to bring in any weapons they would listen. Even though Sean and Dion were licensed to carry a gun and they had trained at the firing range for years, they didn’t have weapons on them. Devlin did have a gun in his waistband, but he was sitting in the truck listening through the receiver he’d taped to Sean’s chest. Any type of taped confession could get the kidnapper put away for a good while, so Devlin had said.

The door opened with a creak that reminded Sean of an old haunted house. He scanned the surroundings the moment he was inside. It was dim, lit only by a candle in the far corner of what was probably the living room. Through the archway straight ahead he saw there were no lights on in that room either. His guess was that there was no electricity, or at the very least no air conditioning, because the air was thick and muggy inside.

“Where is she?” Dion asked the second the door closed.

There was a sniffing sound, and through the shadows Sean could see the guy using his arm to wipe his nose. He appeared disheveled from head to toe, and Sean only hoped he hadn’t put those grimy hands on Briana.

“I’m supposed to get the key first,” he said, his voice slurred a bit.

“He’s high as hell,” Dion said with disgust. Sean knew his tone of voice linked back to Lyra’s mother, who had been addicted to drugs and had died in a car crash a few months ago.

“I’ll give you the key when I see that Briana’s all right,” Sean spoke calmly. If this guy was high on drugs, maybe that could be their advantage.

There were two of them and only one of him. He didn’t have a gun in his hand, and Sean prayed there wasn’t someone with a loaded weapon just beyond one of these dark rooms.

“Just let me see her,” he continued. “Then I’ll give you the key and we all can go about our business.

“I want the key first,” the man said.

Dion took a step toward the man and Sean moved beside him, putting a hand on his arm. He knew what his brother was thinking and figured he’d give it one last try before this meeting turned physical.

“I want my daughter,
now,
” he said in a voice louder and with more conviction than just a few seconds ago.

“Then come and get her,” a female voice said from behind the man.

He knew that voice, despised it, but he knew it. Sean turned slowly to see Briana’s tear-filled eyes illuminated by another candle that was held too close to her face for safety. The woman was holding her. Long black hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, and the face was flawless. Large dark eyes stared at him below elegantly arched eyebrows. Her lips were glossed, the only way he’d ever seen them, as they spread into a smile.

“Sabine,” he whispered, a sick feeling spreading in his gut.

* * *

“Trent?”

“Sabine Ravenell is really Sarah Ann Dennison. She changed her name when she did her first adult movie seventeen years ago. She’s one of two children born to Darlene and Joel Dennison in Daytona Beach, Florida. Her younger brother is—”

Devlin cut him off. “Patrick Dennison.”

“Bingo!” Trent said through the other line.

“Damn it!” he cursed.

“What’s up? This cracks both cases. Sabine doesn’t have enough money to meet the price she bid for
Infinity,
but I see her brother’s been racking up some funds, probably through his continued fraud empire. He makes Madoff look like a saint.”

“Sean and Dion went into the house to meet the kidnapper.”

“You sent them in alone?” The question came with a low rumble in Trent’s voice. Devlin knew that wasn’t a good sign.

“Relax. I’m right outside, and I’ve got backup not ten seconds away. But they’re not expecting Sabine Ravenell.”

It was Trent’s turn to curse. “She’s not just a porn star, Dev. One of her managers was found dead three years ago in L.A. They always suspected her but didn’t have enough evidence to make an arrest. She’s a killer, and you sent my cousins in there alone.”

Devlin was already getting out of the SUV. He had his Bluetooth in one ear, the earpiece that linked him to his backup partners in the other. “I’m on it,” he said into the Bluetooth and disconnected it before Trent could really go off.

“Cover the house!” he yelled to his backup through the earpiece.

He didn’t hear them get out of their cars or hit the ground running, but he knew they did. It was what they were trained to do. Devlin was first at the front door. Only a shadow caught in his peripheral said he had backup right behind him.

* * *

Things seemed to move in extra slow motion inside the house.

Sean took steps toward Sabine the moment he saw it was her. Without a word, he reached for Briana. Sabine swung away so he couldn’t reach her. The action caused the candle to fall to the floor. He didn’t think to grab it; his only focus was getting his baby girl.

“All you had to do was sign over the damned magazine!” she yelled at him.

She was taking a few steps away, like she was prepared to run, but Sean was not about to let her take off. He reached out and grabbed a handful of her ponytail, wrapping it around his hand and using it as a sort of leash to pull her back, stopping her in her tracks.

She yelled and Briana started to cry.

“Give me my daughter!”

“She’s not your baby, you naive idiot! She’s my niece!” Sabine screamed at him.

Sean heard her words but didn’t have time to process them. When he had her close enough, he yanked on her hair so hard that her head jerked back and she yelled again. She reached up to swipe her nails over his face, in the process releasing her hold on Briana. He instantly grabbed his baby and cradled her close. He felt the sting of her nails making contact with his face and then pushed Sabine to the ground with a shoulder bump.

“Get your crazy ass away from her!” he yelled, turning to run toward Dion and the front of the house.

Sabine could stay here with the grungy guy. They were leaving. His heart beat wildly against his chest as he held Briana close, rubbing a hand over her head and whispering to her as he went.

Suddenly he saw flames and almost stepped right into a wall of sparking orange and yellow heat. Instinctively, he grabbed at the shirt Briana was wearing, lifting it from the bottom to pull over her head so she wouldn’t inhale the smoke. He didn’t know the layout of the house and wasn’t sure how to get around the wall of flames. As soon as he decided to go to the right he heard the gunshot. Seconds later he felt the burn of a hot bullet ripping through his flesh.

It took everything in him—all the love he felt for this little girl in his arms, for the woman waiting for him to return, for his mother and his father, for his brother who had been so loyal and dedicated to come with him—all of it created an adrenaline rush that pushed him forward. His legs moved without any real direction from him. His baby gripped his shirt, her wails growing louder and louder.

He couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. He smelled the stench of burning flesh, but he kept moving and moving until he couldn’t move anymore and he fell to the ground, dampness covering his face with a stinging sensation.