Chapter 2
Chapter 2
I t wasn’t as bad as he thought it might be.
Sent in as he had been, Adrien had accepted the fact he might be resented by the local police. After all, the FBI wasn’t usually called in on such a situation as this in which two young women had disappeared.
Of course, he prayed—as did they all—that the young women were alive.
Somewhere.
But even if they’d had known homicides, the local police would have expected to handle the matter themselves under most circumstances. Maybe it wasn’t that unusual. After all, the FBI had field offices in South Florida, and it had been an easy thing for the powers that be to transfer him to a local field office to make it all the more palatable.
Of course, he’d been chosen because he knew the terrain.
It wasn’t as bad as it might have been. Eames seemed to be an exceptional man who was capable of empathy in the middle of extreme professionalism.
And even the lead detective had somewhat proven herself. Of course, if he hadn’t come along, she might have found herself in a bit of trouble. Or she might have extricated herself, as well. Still, it was a good thing they didn’t need to find out if that might have been true or not.
When he’d first seen her . . .
Well, she’d been dressed for the part, appearing as much the same as the kidnapped women as she could, her beautiful sweep of auburn hair curling delicately around her shoulders, face made up to enhance the emerald color of her eyes, perfect little figure clad in a sundress that emphasized long legs and a shapely form.
Fluff . . . a beautiful little piece of fluff.
Except there was nothing fluffy about her now.
EMTs were working on the man with the shattered shoulder, but Detective Victoria Henderson’s manner had changed completely. The man who had been identified as James “Jimmy” Trent had been cuffed, and she was now grilling him after—rather amazingly—commanding one of the dogs to lead the others back into the house, where they were shut away in the “dog” half of the house while officers and agents searched the property.
“I can’t believe the dog obeyed her!”
Adrien turned to see Detective Henderson’s partner, Hank Brannigan, was standing at his side, shaking his head. Hank noted Adrien looked at him, and he smiled, offering him a handshake. “Welcome to our hell and thank you! You are our Fed, right?”
Adrien smiled. “I am your Fed.”
“Where the hell did you learn to ride like that?” Hank demanded.
Adrien grimaced. “Here.”
“Here?” Hank said, surprised.
“I grew up in Southwest Ranches,” Adrien told him. “My brother took over my folks’ house when they moved into a retirement village in Boca. He keeps Chaparral for me at his property and . . . well,” he said, pausing to stroke the neck of his running quarter horse. “I got this guy when I was in high school. He’s sixteen years old now, and one of the most amazing horses I’ve ever come across.”
“Sixteen. Is that old?” Hank asked.
Adrien smiled. “Horses on average have a lifespan of twenty-five to thirty years. The oldest on record made it to sixty-two—Old Billy. So . . . I guess he’s about middle-aged now.”
“Well, I have to admit, I thought you were some jerky jock when I first saw you out on that field—a hell of a rider, but a jerky jock at that. Now . . . well, hell. You saved my partner when I should have been faster at that gate,” Hank told him. “Don’t judge a book by the cover, eh?”
Adrien laughed softly. “Hey, when I saw Detective Henderson, I thought she was a dumb twit, a girl who looked just like those being kidnapped and hanging out all sexy anyway. I didn’t know she was with the department until they got my earbuds working, but I’d intended to go after them as soon as I saw him with her at the pet food vendor stand. Then when they left . . .”
“But you grabbed your horse, not a car.”
Adrien shrugged. “A horse can leap fences. Cars can ram them, but not as quickly or efficiently.”
“All right, then . . .” Hank began, breaking off.
Victoria Henderson’s voice had grown loud. She wasn’t yelling; she wasn’t out of control.
But she was definitely threatening.
“Now, if you tell me where the two women are, you have a chance for a deal. I don’t believe they’re dead, and I believe you know where they are. In fact, hmm . . . just where were you taking me? To join them? If something has happened to either of those young women, you should remember that Florida has the death penalty. You know, frankly, I’m not sure how I feel about it. Because rotting in a few of our prisons where you might be shanked any day of your life might be a greater punishment. Then again . . .”
One of the EMTs looked at her, shaking his head.
Adrien knew his shot had done a hell of a number on the unknown partner’s shoulder and arm. Apparently, he was out now.
Unable to answer.
Detective Henderson gave the EMT a nod and turned back to the cuffed Jimmy Trent.
“You weren’t the alpha male here, my friend. Save your ass, please! Where are they? I mean, they’re probably here, and we can pull the entire place apart, but if you want to cooperate . . .”
“Only one!” Jimmy Trent said.
“Only one what?” Hank asked, stepping forward.
Jimmy Trent looked from Victoria to Hank—and then over at Adrien. Adrien almost smiled. He scared the man, he realized. It was good to be tall—sometimes, his height alone could be imposing.
He let Chaparral’s reins drop and took a few steps toward the man.
“Only one woman is here. That’s what you’re saying. Where is the other woman, and where is the one who is here?”
“The storage building?” Victoria Henderson asked him. “And hmm, let me guess. You’ve built up the land around it or someone did, and there’s something that resembles a basement beneath the floorboards?”
Trent looked at her, his face white. He wasn’t a great criminal. The man was horrified he’d been caught, and he was frightened.
“That’s it,” Adrien said. “Which woman—”
“I don’t know!” Jimmy Trent said. “I don’t. I wasn’t here—he was coming this morning. That’s why I was looking for a replacement. I mean . . .”
“Who is the ‘he’ who came for her?”
“Carl. Carlos, depending on . . . I mean, he’s an American. His grandfather is from South America, and he has connections and . . . they can make him a lot of money,” Jimmy Trent said. “Please, honestly, I swear, I never hurt anyone!”
“Carl or Carlos—who? What’s his last name?” Hank demanded.
“I, um, sometimes, Miller, sometimes Gonzalez, I mean, I’m not sure what the real name is. Look, I’m cooperating. I’ll tell you anything, but I don’t know everything!” Trent wailed.
“I’m going to the storage shed. Hank—” Victoria Henderson announced.
“Oh, I’ve got this guy,” Hank said. “I want to get him to the station, see what our people can discover online about this Carl or Carlos.”
“I’ll get to the storage shed with you, Detective Henderson,” Adrien said.
She studied him for a minute, and he almost smiled. She’d thought he was a ridiculous womanizer, a jerk.
Now . . .
Was she grateful he’d come along? Was she ready to respect him? Or was her opinion of him still on the line?
But he couldn’t worry about that right now. He had hoped they’d solved the case—that both young women might be returned to their homes—the senator’s niece, and from what he knew, another young woman who was apparently an asset to humanity, intelligent, kind, caring, and generous to those who needed help.
Of course, whether he liked it or not, the senator would keep up the pressure if the young woman who was still missing was not his niece. Not that they wouldn’t pursue anyone with the same ardor—but they could do it without political pressure.
She walked swiftly ahead of him. She wasn’t really tiny, Adrien noted. She was probably a good five-eight, a respectable height.
He was just taller, and she had purposely made herself appear na?ve and fragile. Easily taken because she always looked for the good in others, because she was trusting.
Just as the two young women who had fallen to the lure of Jimmy Trent and his rescue dogs.
“The dogs,” she murmured suddenly.
“The dogs?” he asked.
“I don’t believe the poor dogs did anything other than growl. I think they were used to scare people. I hope to hell some power out there doesn’t determine they all need to be euthanized!”
“Well, when we find whoever is still hidden here, we can find out if they were used to chew anyone into submission. And if not—”
“They’ll go to a shelter where they may wind up euthanized anyway. I just wish . . . wow, sorry, I mean, truly, I am desperately concerned for human beings first, but . . .”
“Gotcha. Let’s find our victim first.”
She nodded. She could move fast; he gave her that. She reached the shed, and she swore softly, seeing that it was secured with a padlock.
“No worries,” Adrien told her. He slammed the bulk of his shoulder and back against the wooden closure.
It gave with a shatter.
She stared at him. “Damn! You are useful!” she told him.
“I try, Detective Henderson.”
“Vicky, please, just Vicky.”
“Adrien.”
“I know. I read the program. Your real name?”
“Yeah. No reason not to use it.”
“Did you win the barrel racing?”
“I did.”
They had picked their way through the shattered wood and stood in the middle of the structure. It wasn’t big—perhaps twenty by twenty.
And there was nothing in it. Nothing at all, except for a covering of sawdust over the floor.
“There’s a trap somewhere,” Vicky murmured. “There!”
She hunkered down, moving sawdust aside with her hand. Adrien saw the floorboards matched up strangely, and he joined her in pushing sawdust aside.
Then he saw it; a metal hook.
He caught hold of it and pulled, drawing up a piece of the flooring that was about four by four in dimension. There was no ladder, there were no steps. And only darkness greeted them.
“Hoist me down, please,” Vicky said.
“You got it,” he told her, catching her beneath the arms as she lowered herself down, making sure she didn’t fall flat on her face.
“Here! She’s here, passed out on the floor. But she’s alive! We need a medic. We need a medic, fast!”
Adrien was ready to drop into the small hole in the earth, but he didn’t need to. Vicky Henderson apparently carried a fair amount of muscle in her slim frame. She was able to lift the young woman in the hole high enough for him to reach down and get his arms around the woman and lift her clear from the hole. His first instinct was to run with his human bundle, but he realized he’d be leaving Vicky Henderson in the hole. He remembered he wore earbuds and could be heard by Eames, Vicky, and Hank, so he spoke quickly.
“Help. We have a victim in the shed. Need a medic.”
He had barely turned before Hank was in the shelter, followed by EMTs carrying a stretcher. Even as they arrived, the young woman began to moan softly and open her eyes. Her first response was a scream.
“No, no, no!”
“It’s all right; it’s all right! We’re the good guys!” Hank told her quickly.
She began to sob softly. “They took her today, they took her today. They took Kasey today, and I don’t know . . .”
Beyond a doubt, the young woman was traumatized. And if she was saying that they had taken Kasey, then she was Melissa Martinelli.
She was safe; she was cared for. Adrien turned and saw Vicky was holding the edges of the hole; he hunkered down again to catch her beneath the arms and pull her from the hole.
A bit of the flooring gave.
He fell back, and his body took the brunt of the fall.
And Vicky Henderson wound up lying on top of him, staring down into his eyes.
Miraculously, they both smiled at the same time.
“Thanks. I think!” she told him.
And he nodded. Then there was that second when they both just looked at each other, and he thought she had decided that he might be all right.
“Un, sorry!” she murmured, quickly scrambling up.
“You two okay?” Hank asked.
“Nothing a shower won’t cure,” Vicky told him. “Except—”
“You two want to go to the hospital with her,” Hank said. “Of course. I’m going now—she’s the only one here, right?”
“No one else in the hole,” Vicky said. “I believe Jimmy Trent is telling the truth. He wasn’t the dominant partner in any of this, and he’s scared silly now. Someone has Kasey Richardson, and we must find out who has her and where she’s been taken.”
Through the earbuds, Adrien heard Eames’s voice, as did Vicky and Hank.
“Vicky’s right; Hank, get Trent here now. Vicky, you and Adrien follow to the hospital.”
“Sir, we can’t ride a horse to the hospital,” Adrien reminded him.
“Our people are out there. Call for Officer Vickers—he’ll get your horse home. And hitch a ride behind the ambulance—”
“I’d like to ride in the ambulance,” Vicky said.
“Room for one,” a young EMT told her.
“Go,” Adrien said.
She did, following the EMTs bearing the stretcher that carried Melissa Martinelli.
“I know John Vickers. Good guy. He’ll see that your horse is safely brought—”
“To my brother’s house. It’s not far—Southwest Ranches,” Adrien told him.
“Come then, I’ll introduce you quickly,” Hank told him.
“Where’s Trent?” Adrien asked.
“With an officer in my car; this will take about sixty seconds.”
Hank was almost right; when they exited, he saw a young, uniformed officer was already talking to his horse. Hank introduced him quickly, and John Vickers assured him, “I know the area; I’ll find your place. My partner will get me from your brother’s place. If you need to call—”
“I’ll let him know. Thank you.”
“No, thank you, man, this is a cool horse!” Vickers said.
Adrien grinned and turned to find out about the ride he needed. There was an officer right behind him, ready to oblige.
When he arrived at the hospital, he found Vicky Henderson was in the waiting room.
“She’s going to be okay,” Vicky assured him. “They did a lot of threatening, but she said that they didn’t hurt them. If they didn’t behave, Trent told them he’d sic the dogs on them and let them chew them to ribbons. But the dogs never touched them. I know it’s stupid to be worried about the dogs—”
“The dogs will be okay, and it isn’t stupid. It means you’re a decent person.”
She smiled at that. She had been pacing the waiting room, but with his arrival, she sank into a chair at last.
“I didn’t get much from her yet. The poor woman is truly traumatized. But she did see this Carlos person—briefly. And . . .” She paused and then looked at him. “I understand you were pressured into coming here.”
“Not pressured. I’m here often; I have a brother here. I’m, uh, from here.”
“Oh!” She studied him anew.
“Yeah. Grew up at Southwest Ranches, went to Florida State University College of Criminology, became a cop in St. Augustine and then opted for the bureau, went through the academy, and got assigned in Virginia . . . and then transferred down here.”
“When?”
“Yesterday,” he said dryly.
“Ah.” She studied him for a minute. “Melissa Martinelli isn’t the senator’s niece, is she?”
He shook his head.
Vicky leaned back against her chair and closed her eyes for a minute. “I like to believe we’d do everything in our power to find anyone—man or woman—who had been abducted. But since I’m not a fool, and I know that powerful people can exert a lot of pressure, I think a part of me is glad we found Melissa first. Because they’ll keep you—and every officer and agent in the state—on this now until Kasey Richardson is found.”
“I can’t argue that.”
Eames’s voice came through to them again.
“Vicky, I can hear you,” he reminded them.
“Yes, sir,” she murmured. Then she added softly, “And that’s okay. I stand by my words.”
“Okay, I didn’t hear them,” Eames said. “So—”
“Sir, as soon as they let me in, you’ll know!” Vicky reminded him. “Has Hank—”
“Yes, Hank is here; he’s in with Trent now, working him well, but . . . I don’t know what else the man can give us. I think his role was just to be charming and lure the victims to the house. But he’s working him. And Hank is good. We’ll see.”
“I’d like a crack at him,” Vicky said.
“And you’ll get it,” Eames promised.
“Hey, the doctor is coming out,” Adrien said, seeing that a dignified, mature man in a doctor’s uniform was coming through the door to the waiting room, obviously ready to approach Vicky.
They both stood, waiting for his report.
He walked over to them, nodding in acknowledgment to Adrien’s presence.
“She’s going to be okay,” he told them. “Physically. I have a feeling she may need therapy for many years to come, but she wasn’t beaten, dehydrated, or starved. I think that being continually exposed to the darkness and small space caused a physical reaction to kick in. When she closed her eyes and passed out, she didn’t have to face her circumstances. When they took Kasey . . . who had become her friend, there had to be a horrible breaking point for her.”
“May we see her?” Vicky asked.
“Yes, physically, she’s sound, but we’ll keep her in the hospital overnight for observation, and until her family has been notified,” the doctor said.
Vicky glanced at Adrien. He gave her a small nod, realizing her concern.
Someone was still out there. The someone who had taken Kasey Richardson. And that someone might not want her talking, and they might not be done with her....
“Doctor, we’re going to place officers and/or agents on guard for Miss Martinelli,” Adrien said. “They won’t disrupt—”
“Right. We’ll let her go in the morning,” the doctor said. He obviously didn’t like what was going on, but he told them, “The man who was brought in, unidentified, no I.D. on him—and we were informed that no one knew him—is still in surgery. We want to have him transferred to a prison hospital facility as soon as possible.”
“Of course,” Adrien said agreeably. “For now—”
“Yes, you may go in and see Miss Martinelli.”
He led them in and indicated the room where they would find Melissa Martinelli.
She was sitting up in bed, just staring.
“Melissa?” Vicky said quietly.
The young woman managed a weak smile. “You! You were with me in the ambulance. You—you got me out of the hole!”
“We got you out of the hole,” Vicky told her. “Well, honestly, Melissa, the police and agents and the entire community has been looking for you, and we had lots of help getting you out of the hole.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you. . . .”
“I’m Detective Victoria Henderson, and this is Special Agent Adrien Anderson. And now, we need your help. We need to know everything—”
“I told you what I know in the ambulance!” Melissa said.
She was wide-eyed, trembling, so vulnerable. Yet even so, Adrien could clearly see why Vicky Henderson had made such a perfect choice for the undercover mission in drawing out the kidnapper. The two women had deep red hair, bright green eyes, and slender, well-proportioned facial structures, as well as similar body types. Of course, he had seen pictures of Kasey Richardson, Senator Peter Connery’s niece. Whoever Carlos was, there was a type he was demanding. And Vicky, like Melissa and Kasey, fit the bill.
“Melissa, would you tell us everything, from the beginning?” Adrien asked gently.
Melissa took a deep breath. “He seemed like such a nice guy. He saw me buying dog food. He told me about his rescues. Some rescues!” she said, wincing.
“The dogs never hurt you,” Vicky said, glancing at Adrien.
“What? No, no. He just talked about what they could do, chew us to pieces so that we’d be begging to die. And I . . . I was terrified!”
“Of course, you were,” Vicky said gently. “But—”
“I would have lost my mind if it hadn’t been for Kasey! Even in the dark, we would talk. And she was wonderful, talking about places we had to go together when we were freed. She was always so positive until . . .”
“Until?” Adrien asked.
“This morning. That’s when the mean one came.”
“The mean one. Did anyone ever use his name?” Vicky asked her.
She shook her head. “Jimmy fed us and brought us water. We only saw the other guy a few times. Then this morning . . .”
Tears slipped silently down her cheek, but they didn’t need to urge her to continue.
“He dragged Kasey out of the hole! Dragged her. He told her her master had come for her, and it was time for her to go. And he warned her again about Trent’s dogs, and that he had a gun, and if she didn’t behave, he’d have her begging for death. She had best—best!—behave for her new master. And then . . . then she was gone! And I was alone and the darkness was horrible and I was so afraid!”
“Did you see who came for her?” Vicky asked quietly.
“Umm . . .”
“Anything. Anything will help us!” Vicky whispered.
Melissa closed her eyes in deep thought. “I was looking up and . . . I think he was about the same height as the mean one. Same kind of build . . . dark hair. I think . . . I think he was in a suit, maybe? I’m not certain. I’m not certain.”
“That’s okay! You’ve done great, Melissa,” Adrien assured her.
There was a commotion in the hall. Adrien turned quickly, ready to draw his Glock. But it wasn’t someone ready to hurt Melissa; it was an older woman, frantic to reach her.
A nurse was behind her, apologizing quickly. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Martinelli said she had to see her daughter—”
“Understandable,” Adrien assured her, stepping aside. The woman was like a laser-propelled bullet, anxious to reach her daughter.
“Melissa!” she cried, almost throwing herself on the young woman in the bed, her arms cradling her in a hug that might have been dangerous had Melissa suffered any broken bones.
“Mom, Mom, Mom!”
Adrien glanced at Vicky, who gave him a smile. Of course. They both knew it was natural that such a moment would be beautiful and a little heartbreaking.
“Mom, these are the people who saved me!” Melissa managed to say at last.
Mrs. Martinelli turned. She was a lot like her daughter—but older. Red hair turning a bit gray, her size a little plumper, but her eyes as dazzling a green as they shimmered with tears. She hugged Vicky first, words of thanks tumbling from her mouth, and then she turned to Adrien, who accepted her hug a little awkwardly at first, but then returned it, patting her back.
“She’s going to be fine!” Adrien assured her.
“I’m going to take her home as soon as I can. I’m going to sleep here tonight, and so is my husband—he’s parking the car. We’re not going to leave her for a second. He won’t come back, right? You got him, you got him, you got him—”
“There will be police on duty, Mrs. Martinelli, here, and when you take her home. We got two men involved in this, but there’s a third, and we want Melissa to be safe.”
“And Kasey is still out there!” Melissa cried from the bed.
Kasey was still out there.
Adrien looked at Vicky Henderson. She was looking at him.
They might have had a rough start. She’d seen him as a misogynist and jerk.
He’d seen her as a bit of fluff . . .
Really beautiful fluff, but fluff.
Now, he knew, it had changed. They’d earned each other’s respect.
And neither one of them was going to stop until Kasey Richardson had been found.