until this is finished. It’s the best way to keep all of you safe.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said.
“Jennifer—”
“I’m not. And you already know I’m not, so there’s no use fighting me over it. You need me with you. My contacts rival yours. We can find her together. And don’t give me any bullshit about me slowing you down. I’ve done this for years in my own line of work and it’s safe to assume I’ve been pretty successful at it.”
“Being shot on camera isn’t the same as shooting a gun.”
“Maybe not, but having the right contacts when you’re on the street and in the heat of the moment can make all the difference.”
“I’m not going to argue about this. The best way you can help me is to just listen to me. While I’m out there, I can’t be worried about you.”
“Who are you kidding? You’ll worry anyway.” She stood and looked down at him. “Call Gloria. Cancel tonight’s party. Talk to Beth. I have friends of my own who leave the city to stay in the Hamptons for the summer. I’ll find us a place. We’ll call Skeen and have him remove the chip properly. We’ll find Camille and Emma. And then we’ll shut down Carr and the Millers for good.”
* * *
Only it wouldn’t go that way. Unless he had no other choice, he wasn’t putting Jennifer in the sort of danger he was in now.
In spite of all the issues he had with Gloria in the past, she at least respected his decisions when it came to these situations. She always had. She was as strong-willed as Jennifer, but in different ways. When it came to protecting family, that was her first priority.
He removed the satellite phone from his pocket, went to his office and called Gloria to give her the news about the party.
Only she didn’t answer, which concerned him because more than anyone, she knew that her phone needed to be tied to her at this point.
He tried the Moore’s private line and waited for someone to pick up. They didn’t. He phoned Gloria’s apartment and listened to the endless rings while a knot of worry formed in his gut.
Nothing.
She knew not to call him on his cell phone, but as unlikely as it was, she may have forgotten the number to the satellite. He checked the phone and saw that it was turned off.
He remembered why. Earlier that morning, when Carr and his people checked his phone, he discretely turned it off before putting it back in his pocket. He turned it on and found no messages. He was about to shut it off when instead, he noted there was a text message waiting for him.
He checked it. It was from Beth. She sent it thirty minutes ago, when he and Jennifer were talking in the living room. He opened it. Read it. And the knot in his gut became an anchor. His lips parted when he saw the word, which likely was typed so quickly, it accounted for the misspelling:
“Helkp,” it said.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
She didn’t know where they were in the city—if they even were in the city—but they were in a basement. At least she knew that.
It was cooler here than it was outside, but the basement was damp from the storm that hit the night before. There was a thickness to the air that was uncomfortable. Sticky. Worse, there was nowhere to sit.
Her mother, Jack, Katie, herself and the Moores were either crouched or leaning against a stone foundation. Across the room, sitting in a chair beneath a bare bulb that shined low from the ceiling, was one of the men who brought them here. His eyes were on the adults, likely because he felt they posed the greatest threat. Beth Spellman watched him and waited for him to turn to her or Katie. He didn’t, not even when she coughed.
She thought about the advantages of this scenario while she watched him.
He seemed somewhere around her father’s age. Maybe younger. Maybe mid-thirties. Maybe not. Hard to tell with the shadows playing across his face.
He was dressed in jeans and wore a thin, long-sleeved shirt. At the end
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said.
“Jennifer—”
“I’m not. And you already know I’m not, so there’s no use fighting me over it. You need me with you. My contacts rival yours. We can find her together. And don’t give me any bullshit about me slowing you down. I’ve done this for years in my own line of work and it’s safe to assume I’ve been pretty successful at it.”
“Being shot on camera isn’t the same as shooting a gun.”
“Maybe not, but having the right contacts when you’re on the street and in the heat of the moment can make all the difference.”
“I’m not going to argue about this. The best way you can help me is to just listen to me. While I’m out there, I can’t be worried about you.”
“Who are you kidding? You’ll worry anyway.” She stood and looked down at him. “Call Gloria. Cancel tonight’s party. Talk to Beth. I have friends of my own who leave the city to stay in the Hamptons for the summer. I’ll find us a place. We’ll call Skeen and have him remove the chip properly. We’ll find Camille and Emma. And then we’ll shut down Carr and the Millers for good.”
* * *
Only it wouldn’t go that way. Unless he had no other choice, he wasn’t putting Jennifer in the sort of danger he was in now.
In spite of all the issues he had with Gloria in the past, she at least respected his decisions when it came to these situations. She always had. She was as strong-willed as Jennifer, but in different ways. When it came to protecting family, that was her first priority.
He removed the satellite phone from his pocket, went to his office and called Gloria to give her the news about the party.
Only she didn’t answer, which concerned him because more than anyone, she knew that her phone needed to be tied to her at this point.
He tried the Moore’s private line and waited for someone to pick up. They didn’t. He phoned Gloria’s apartment and listened to the endless rings while a knot of worry formed in his gut.
Nothing.
She knew not to call him on his cell phone, but as unlikely as it was, she may have forgotten the number to the satellite. He checked the phone and saw that it was turned off.
He remembered why. Earlier that morning, when Carr and his people checked his phone, he discretely turned it off before putting it back in his pocket. He turned it on and found no messages. He was about to shut it off when instead, he noted there was a text message waiting for him.
He checked it. It was from Beth. She sent it thirty minutes ago, when he and Jennifer were talking in the living room. He opened it. Read it. And the knot in his gut became an anchor. His lips parted when he saw the word, which likely was typed so quickly, it accounted for the misspelling:
“Helkp,” it said.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
She didn’t know where they were in the city—if they even were in the city—but they were in a basement. At least she knew that.
It was cooler here than it was outside, but the basement was damp from the storm that hit the night before. There was a thickness to the air that was uncomfortable. Sticky. Worse, there was nowhere to sit.
Her mother, Jack, Katie, herself and the Moores were either crouched or leaning against a stone foundation. Across the room, sitting in a chair beneath a bare bulb that shined low from the ceiling, was one of the men who brought them here. His eyes were on the adults, likely because he felt they posed the greatest threat. Beth Spellman watched him and waited for him to turn to her or Katie. He didn’t, not even when she coughed.
She thought about the advantages of this scenario while she watched him.
He seemed somewhere around her father’s age. Maybe younger. Maybe mid-thirties. Maybe not. Hard to tell with the shadows playing across his face.
He was dressed in jeans and wore a thin, long-sleeved shirt. At the end
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