Chapter 20
Twenty
“Get out of my fucking way,” Jonah snarled.
Brax set his stance. “You’re not going anywhere like this.”
“He fucking took her!” And as soon as Jonah got his hands on Howard, he’d make sure the bastard couldn’t ever hurt anyone again. But his friends were currently blocking both exits from the kitchen.
“And do you have any clue where? ” Holt demanded. “Or are you just planning to drive on up to his house, guns blazing?”
“It would be a start.” Even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t the way.
“Come on, man. You’re a better tactician than this. Think. You’ll waste more time running all over the county trying to find her than if you wait and gather more intel.”
And where the hell was that supposed to come from? The footage from their security cameras only showed hands reaching out to grab her and yank her behind the dumpster. While they were chasing their own tails, he could be doing anything to her. Jonah’s brain was more than happy to fill in the options with a parade of horrors he’d witnessed during his military career. And all that was assuming the bastard wasn’t taking her outside the area. The longer they waited, the further he could get, and they didn’t have the first damned clue where to look.
Brax stepped closer. “Look, I get it. We both get it. You’re scared out of your mind right now. But you’ve gotta lock it down and be smart about this. You know we’ve got your back, whatever’s needed.”
Jonah grunted an acknowledgement. He trusted these two men as much as his former SEAL team. They’d get it done. Whatever it took, they’d help him bring Rachel home. But Brax was right. They needed a plan.
“Xander’s on his way. We’re civilians now, so no matter what, we need law enforcement on our side for this.”
Jonah didn’t appreciate Holt’s reminder. He had the skills to make this son of a bitch disappear, and he wanted to be able to use them. But potentially going to prison for murder wasn’t exactly in line with building that life he so desperately wanted with Rachel. The one he’d been too afraid to reach for. He’d do anything for the chance at that life. And if that meant following the damned rules, so be it.
The bell over the door jangled, and Xander strode into the bakery, trailed by Ty Brooks and Leanne Hammond.
“What do we know?” he demanded.
“That Howard Danforth should never have been granted bail. What time was he released?” Jonah snarled.
“A little before ten. We don’t know that he did this.”
“I find it a little too convenient that within half an hour of his release, my girlfriend is kidnapped. I found her phone halfway between the backdoor and the parking lot. There are drag marks in the dirt.”
Xander’s face hardened. “If he’s behind it, we’ll find out. Kidnapping opens up a whole other set of charges and certainly violates the terms of his bail. How long has she been missing?”
“I found her phone twenty minutes ago. She was outside for no more than fifteen minutes before that.”
“What about surveillance footage?” Leanne asked. “You guys wired this place up to hell and back in the spring.”
Holt showed them the video.
“He knew where the cameras were,” Ty observed.
“See what you two can find.” As Ty and Leanne strode outside, Xander continued. “I’ll send officers to Danforth’s house. If he took her, I doubt she’s there, but maybe his wife will know something.”
Jonah just growled, impatience nipping at his heels.
Xander clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I swear to you, we’re going to find her.”
“How?”
Holt crossed his arms. “Does she have one of those fitness tracker watches?”
“I think so. Why?”
“Cayla’s got one. She’s gotten kind of obsessed with getting her steps to walk off all the baked goods I bring home. Hers has GPS. Maybe Rachel’s does, too.”
“How would we track that? Doesn’t it have to sync with a phone or something?”
“Cash might be able to hack something. It’s worth a try.” He reached for Rachel’s phone, which they’d put into a zip-top bag to protect any evidence. “I’ll see if I can find out what kind she’s got.”
But before he could pick up the device, Jonah’s phone began to ring. He didn’t recognize the number. Signaling for silence, he answered.
“Mr. Ferguson.” The man didn’t identify himself. He didn’t have to. His call was all the confirmation Jonah needed.
“Danforth.” It took everything he had not to demand Rachel’s whereabouts. But that would tip his hand, make him look as desperate as he felt. “What do you want?”
“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard about my unfortunate… situation.”
“You mean your arrest? Yeah, I guess that could be considered unfortunate.”
“Yes, well, the fact of the matter is, I am not made for prison.”
The men around Jonah shifted. He knew they could hear the conversation because of how loud he had to keep his phone in order to combat his hearing loss. Holt began texting furiously, probably tagging in Cash to trace the call.
“Why is that my problem?”
“Because I have something you want.”
Jonah’s temper slipped, and his hand clenched around the phone. “What have you done with her, you son of a bitch?”
“Ah, see, I knew you were smarter than your father. You’re catching right on. As of now, your lady is perfectly fine. I don’t want to hurt her. I’m not interested in racking up a body count. This was not the plan at all. I was supposed to be on a plane to South America to live out my days on a tropical beach. But the problem is that the police confiscated the phone I need to access my golden parachute.”
“What exactly are you saying?”
“I’m a businessman. I’m proposing an exchange. You bring me my property, and I give you her location. I get out of town, and we never hear from each other again.”
“How do I know you’re not lying?”
“Oh, well, you don’t. But the alternative is that I let my associate know his attempt at providing more leverage failed, and I’m not responsible for what he does with her after that.”
Jonah closed his eyes, taking an iron grip on the fear that had him by the throat. Associate. So Howard wasn’t working alone. That wasn’t a surprise. He’d hired Abruzzi. He wasn’t the sort of man who got his own hands dirty.
“How exactly am I supposed to get ahold of the phone if it’s in police lockup?”
“As I recall, you were best friends with the sheriff. I’ll leave you to work that out with him. I’m sure you can be… persuasive.”
“Where and when?”
“Two hours. Come alone. I’ll know if you don’t. If you involve anyone else, I’ll be instructing my associate to take care of the loose end he’s created.”
“That’s the when. Where?”
“I’ll text you the coordinates a half hour before the meet. That’ll give you just enough time to get there. Good luck, Mr. Ferguson. I’ll be waiting.”
The line went dead.
“Damn it. Cash didn’t manage a trace.”
But Jonah wasn’t paying attention to Holt. He looked at Xander, who was already shaking his head.
“I can’t turn over evidence, man. Especially evidence that would allow him to flee the country. He’s giving us a location. We can arrest him again. He’s clearly a flight risk.”
“And what if you’re wrong? What if he does exactly as he says and sends a message to whoever the hell he’s working with to take Rachel out? I’m not risking that. We can’t do anything to Danforth. Not until we know where she is.”
“Without having a location until half an hour before the drop, we’re limited in our ability to plan anything,” Brax pointed out.
“Limited, but not completely hamstrung,” Holt said. “Cash didn’t manage to get a specific location on the phone—it was a burner by the way—but he narrowed it down.”
“We don’t know that he’s calling from anywhere near where he intends the drop to be. He said half an hour would be just enough time for Jonah to get there from here. That’s somewhere within the county, but it still covers a lot of territory,” Xander said.
“An airfield.” Jonah shared a glance with the rest of the men. “Somewhere a small plane or a helo could get in and out. He wants to get the hell out of Dodge in a hurry. Only way to do that without risking being caught in a roadblock or by other vehicles is to fly. The number of places that fit the bill that are still within half an hour’s drive of the Ridge are few. So let’s get some maps and make a fucking plan for how we’re going to take him down and get her back.”
“I haven’t agreed to this,” Xander pointed out.
Jonah leveled a gaze on his oldest friend. “I’m doing this, with or without you. I’d just as soon do it with you in a way that doesn’t get me arrested.”
Xander stayed silent for several long moments, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I need him to come out of this alive so the son of a bitch can be prosecuted. Agree to that, and I’ll let you do the rest.”
Alive didn’t mean uninjured. Jonah could work with that. He offered his hand. “Let’s go get this son of a bitch.”
Rachel’s head swam. How much longer was he going to keep her in here? The late August sun made the interior of the trunk an oven. Sweat dampened her back and dripped down her face, soaking the gag. Or maybe that was all the moisture from her mouth. The air was heavy and damp, and seemed to take more than a reasonable effort to drag into her lungs. Were trunks airtight? Would she run out of oxygen before they got where they were going?
She was wheezing by the time the car stopped. The trunk popped open. Her eyes wheeled, trying to focus on her captor, but everything was hazy.
He swore, scooping her out of the trunk and carrying her into a building. She tried to focus on where she was, but all her effort was having to go into breathing. Mustache set her on a threadbare sofa and tugged her gag down. She gasped, sucking in huge lungfuls. The air in the room was musty, too, but nothing like the trunk. With the extra oxygen, her head began to clear.
She licked her lips. “Water? Please.” Her voice came out in a croak.
After a moment’s hesitation, he retrieved a bottle from somewhere, twisting off the top and holding it to her lips. Could it be drugged? Surely not. This guy didn’t seem that organized. Nabbing her had been an impulse. So she sipped at the water, slowly drinking the warm liquid down. When she’d finished, he moved to put the gag back into her mouth.
“No, please. I’ll behave. Just let me breathe.”
He sat back.
“What’s happening?”
“Jonah’s going to get the thing I couldn’t. He’s bringing it to Howard, who’s going to trade your location at the drop. We’ve got a little time yet, but you just sit tight, and you’ll be home by dinner.”
Rachel didn’t know if she could trust this assertion, but he seemed to believe it. Maybe if she got him talking, she’d learn something useful. At the very least, it would give the guys and the police more time to find her. They had to be looking for her by now.
“How did you get into this, anyway? Working for Howard Danforth?”
He folded his arms, positioning himself beside a nearby window. “I didn’t.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Lonnie and I were friends. I figured out that he had some kind of gig going with Howard. We worked together for years, and he never would even admit to it, let alone cut me in on it. But I’m not stupid.” The defensive tone in his voice made it clear this was an accusation that had been leveled in his direction over a lifetime.
Worked together for years… This must be Harley Molina, Lonnie’s old bartender.
“After Lonnie died, I wanted to pick up where he left off. I went to see Howard about it, but he wasn’t interested in that. Apparently, Lonnie had been working to screw him over, and all he wanted was the evidence Lonnie had been collecting. He said he had it taken care of. Hired that outsider. Well, that didn’t work. That asshole didn’t find jack during the renovation, and ended up dead for his trouble. After that, I thought maybe if I could find the information myself, it’d prove I could be a valuable asset, and Howard would cut me in.”
“You were the one who broke into the bakery?”
“Yeah.”
“And was it you who came back a month ago?”
Harley’s mustache twitched, and he ducked his head. “Yeah. Nobody was supposed to be there. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”
He seemed genuinely remorseful about it. That was good, wasn’t it? If he didn’t want to hurt her then, maybe he wouldn’t want to hurt her now.
“So what happened?”
“Nothing was working. I’d already been through most of Lonnie’s shit when I was helping pack it up. Didn’t find squat. And then when Howard mentioned that there was still stuff to go through and wanted it taken care of, I figured out where Jonah had stashed it all and torched the place. Figured that would destroy any evidence.” He frowned. “Nobody was supposed to get hurt from that, either. Don’t know why Rebecca went in when the house was on fire. But I guess it worked out all right. Nobody had any lasting damage.”
Rachel absorbed the story. This explained the inconsistencies in what the guys had told her. How they’d seemed to be dealing with a trained professional, and then with someone with few to no skills. It hadn’t made sense that Howard would’ve hired a bumbling idiot. And that was because he hadn’t. Harley had been acting on his own.
She remembered what Xander had said about how Harley was a Fuller somewhere on his mother’s side. “What did Howard mean about you not being allowed to join in the family business?”
Harley scowled. “All my life, I’ve been accused of being dumb. Nobody thought I had anything of value to offer. But I could see how that whole deal Granddaddy struck with Howard back in the day was gonna blow back on us, eventually.”
“Your grandfather is Cassius Fuller?”
He jolted. “Yeah.”
“Didn’t Howard buy his land?”
“They made a deal. Howard bought the land, took on the debt, and let us keep working, doing what we’d always done. Nobody expected that, so nobody looked for it. Win-win, as they say. But it was only a matter of time. I wanted to get in close to Howard, so I’d know what he planned.”
“So you could prove your worth to your family.”
“Yeah.”
“How’s that gonna work if he flees the country?”
“He needs a right hand. I’m going with him.”
Rachel was pretty sure Harley was delusional, because it seemed obvious to her that Howard was setting him up to take the fall. But bringing it up could as easily piss Harley off at her as turn him against Howard. She wasn’t willing to take that risk. Not yet, anyway.
“So, what are we doing out here? Wherever here is.”
Harley gestured out the window. “That’s where the drop is gonna happen.”
Neck straining, she peered out. She didn’t know what she was supposed to see other than a flat, grassy expanse well down a hill. Before she could ask about it, a pulsing noise sounded in the distance.
Harley angled his head. “That’ll be our ride.”
He turned to the window, peering out, and she spotted a gun tucked in the back of his waistband. He hadn’t waved it at her, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t use it if he had to.
The thrumming sound got louder.
“Is that a helicopter?”
Harley grunted.
Rachel wriggled, working her way down the sofa, closer to the window. Her shoulders and arms had gone numb from the restraints, and she couldn’t feel her feet.
“What are you doing?”
“I just want to watch.”
Tucking one arm under her elbow, he lifted her up, nudging her over into a chair beside the window. “Front-row seat.”
A small helicopter dropped onto the field, and a couple minutes later, an SUV pulled up the road far below.
“That’ll be Howard. Now we’ve just gotta wait on your boy to make his delivery.” Harley turned to face her. “I have to put the gag back in. Sorry.”
Rachel didn’t fight him. If he’d let her watch from here, she’d have a better idea what was going on when the drop actually happened. Her gaze was fixed on the distant road when Jonah’s truck rolled down it. The familiar sight of it kicked her heart into a gallop. He’d get to her. Maybe all this really would be over soon.
At the edge of the field, Jonah stopped, stepping out of the vehicle with both hands up, showing they were empty. No one else was in the truck, but surely he didn’t come alone. He was a man accustomed to working in a team. Holt and Brax were probably somewhere nearby, and likely the police, too.
From where he stood maybe twenty feet away from the helicopter, Howard held a gun on him. Jonah moved slowly, pulling something from his pocket and flashing it. Howard made a toss-it gesture, and Jonah complied. The thing landed a little in front of its target. Howard kept his eyes and his gun on Jonah as he came forward and knelt to grab it.
Rachel kept waiting for something to happen. For a shot or a tackle. Something. But Jonah only stood, clearly waiting for the information he’d come for.
The helicopter’s blades began to spin. Howard backed toward it, and Jonah lost the relaxed posture, shouting at the other man.
Rachel tried to speak, jerking her head toward the scene below to get Harley to realize Howard was going to make a run for it.
His brows drew together. “That son of a bitch. He can’t just leave me here.”
He rushed toward the cabin door and opened it. The moment his foot crossed the threshold, there was a pop and a thud . Rachel could just make out the toe of Harley’s scarred boot inside. He wasn’t moving.
She jerked her attention back to the field below. Jonah drew a gun from somewhere. And then Howard was falling to the ground, and the helicopter was lifting off.
Holy shit! Holy shit!
At the movement in the cabin doorway, she cringed back in her chair. But it was Brax and Holt, moving in tandem as they cleared the room.
“I’ll take care of our friend out here.” Holt stepped back outside, presumably to deal with Harley.
Brax closed the distance, pulling out a wicked-looking knife and leaning down to slice through the thick cable ties binding her ankles. “Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” He made short work of the gag and the restraints on her wrists. “You okay?”
Tears streamed down her face as blood and pain rushed into her shoulders and arms. But she nodded, rubbing to get the feeling back into her limbs.
Jonah charged through the door, his gaze moving unerringly to hers. The grim, vicious expression on his face softened as his eyes took her in. Rachel tried to stand, to go to him, but her legs wouldn’t hold her.
Then he was there, his big strong arms wrapped around her, and she knew it was over.
She buried her face against his neck. “Is he dead? Are they both dead?”
Jonah pulled back just far enough she could see a grim smile. “No. That was the deal we made with Xander to run this operation. We used tranq guns. They’ll be out for a while, and back in jail before they wake up.”
So they’d both survive to be prosecuted. Rachel only hoped that the justice system did its job. But she was grateful he had no more bodies on his conscience.
Burrowing closer, she breathed in the familiar scent of him and felt the fear leech away. “I knew you’d come for me.”
As the sounds of sirens drew closer, he pressed a kiss to her temple. “Always.”