Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“ I s there a reason we’re having this meeting at your office instead of over food?” Sheriff Quinn O’Conner asked as he settled into a guest chair opposite Gavin’s desk. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Frazier, your setup here is impressive and all, but I’d much prefer meeting over a meal like usual.”
“No doubt we all would,” Xander added with a laugh. “But Frazier’s in lockdown.”
Quinn’s eyebrows rose. “Care to clarify that?”
For the next ten minutes, Gavin updated Quinn on everything. The rescue of Anson McClintock, the gala and car chase, the two shootings at the McClintocks’ home, and the subsequent information they’d uncovered.
“I wanted to keep you in the loop,” Gavin said. “I don’t know how fast the feds will move on this.”
Quinn snorted. “Feds moving fast? You’re kidding, right?”
There was no love lost between the local sheriff’s department and the FBI’s Seattle office.
“Exactly,” Gavin said. “Constance Whitcomb is staying at the Pacific View, but should she decide to leave, we were hoping you could keep an eye out for her car. ”
“And why exactly would I do that?” Quinn asked, leaning back in his chair.
He looked at his friend for a moment. “Do you really want to know?”
Quinn grimaced and ran a hand over his face. “No. Make that fuck no.”
Yeah. That’s what he’d thought. Chuckling, Gavin glanced at his ringing cell phone. Tiny’s name showed on the display. Holding up a finger, he rose and brought the phone to his ear.
“Hang on,” Gavin said by way of greeting. Excusing himself, he stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind him. “All right, go ahead.”
“Nabers is the one who created Five Stars Catering and Sunset Event Planning. In addition, she’s created Sherman Photography—another vendor that appears multiple times on the foundation’s bank register.”
The McClintock Family Foundation had been established to provide access to technology and STEM education and experiences to underserved communities, and Constance was using it as her personal bank account. That was disgusting enough, but knowing she was most likely responsible for her own nephew’s kidnapping and torture was beyond fucking appalling.
Gavin shook his head. He’d do everything in his power to make sure she was brought to justice. “Thanks for the intel, Tiny. Everything needs to be admissible. Once it is, call Esme and let her know. Pass along what you have so she can let her FBI contacts know.”
“On it. This woman’s going down. Also, that thing with the Department of Licensing has been taken care of. Later,” Tiny said before hanging up.
He pocketed his phone and looked out at cyber’s work area. Countless monitors were busy with activity. Restless energy buzzed through him. They were so damn close to bringing Constance Whitcomb down.
“Abbot,” he called out. When she glanced over, he made his way toward her. “Where’s Whitcomb right now?”
She turned to her computer. After a few keystrokes, numerous security feeds filled the screen. “Still at the Pacific View. She and the bodyguard resurfaced from their room not too long ago. Looks like they just got seated in the dining room.”
“Thanks,” he said. “Keep an eye on her, please.”
“You got it,” she said, calling over Oliphant.
Leaving them to it, Gavin reentered his office. He nodded at Alvarez, who’d pulled up an extra chair beside Xander. Taking his seat behind his desk, he met Quinn’s curious gaze. “We have confirmation that Constance Whitcomb is embezzling money from her family’s nonprofit foundation. There’s also a high probability that she was involved in the kidnapping of her nephew, along with the multiple shootings.”
Quinn’s eyebrows rose. “No shit?”
“We still have to dig a little deeper for the proverbial smoking gun, but it’s there somewhere. Esme will be informing the FBI with what we’ve found, but you know as well as I do, those fuckers are slower than molasses.”
Quinn remained silent and then nodded. “I can have Deputy Chase go out and post up at the resort.” With his elbows on the armrests of his chair, Quinn steepled his fingers and brought them to his lips. “If Constance leaves the resort, what do you think Chase should be on the lookout for? Hypothetically speaking, of course.”
“He could stop her for expired tabs.” Gavin shrugged. “Hypothetically speaking.”
Quinn chuckled. “Of course?—”
Gavin’s cell phone rang. “Sorry,” he muttered. He didn’t recognize the number but brought his phone to his ear. “Frazier.”
“The almighty Gavin fucking Frazier,” a man said, disdain clear in his voice.
Everything inside Gavin stilled. Glancing at his colleagues, he quickly put the call on speaker. “Who the fuck is this?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The man tsked, clearly enjoying himself. “How about this? I have your girlfriend.”
Ice shot through his veins, and his vision tunneled on his phone. “What the fuck did you just say?” he hissed.
He desperately wanted to reach through the phone and strangle this fucker. Demand he tell him what the fuck he was talking about. Instead, he had to sit there and watch as Xander, Alvarez, and Quinn sprang into action. Alvarez shot out the door with his phone to his ear. Quinn moved to the opposite side of Gavin’s office, quietly speaking into his phone. Xander shot to his feet, his attention locked on Gavin.
The man on the other end chuckled. “Got your attention, didn’t I? Well, asshole, I have your girlfriend. Pretty little thing, and she looks great in those skintight leggings of hers. You have two hours to round up ten million dollars. I’ll call with transfer instructions.”
Gavin knew there was a protocol for keeping the caller on the line, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what it was. The only thing on his mind was Bean. “How the fuck do I know you’re not lying?”
“I was planning on sending you a video of her before I send you the transfer instructions. I’m nice like that. Consider it like a before and after. If you don’t send the money, I’ll send another video of me cutting off one of her pretty toes. Perhaps one for each fifteen minutes you’re late with your payment. Once her toes are gone, I’ll move to her fingers. Talk soon, asshole. ”
The call disconnected.
Gavin stood staring at his phone. A dull roar filled his brain. His heart hammered in his chest, and his breaths came in pants. Gripping the edge of his desk, images of Bean flashed in his mind like a slideshow. Then the images were tinged with red, and the noise in his head intensified. With a deafening cry, he flipped his desk. He stalked to the bookcase on the side of the room and upended it. Rage poured out of him in a howl.
He turned to the Smartboard mounted on his office wall and grabbed the edge, but strong arms clamped down around him.
“That’s enough, Frazier,” Xander shouted.
He stilled. Not because the other man had his arms pinned, but because he was about to clobber his friend.
“Brother or not,” Gavin seethed, “you have one motherfucking second to let go of me.”
Xander let go but shoved him hard.
Off-balance, Gavin fell onto his couch.
Xander got right in his face, and it took everything he had to not punch his friend.
“Dammit, Frazier, focus! We don’t know if he actually has her. Cyber’s tracing the call and searching for her phone.”
“She’s hiking out by Tactical,” he said, his voice raw.
Xander shook his head. “Tactical has a group doing firearms training. Wilson said she was heading over to Jackson Cove instead.”
He shot up from the couch. “Let’s go?—”
Xander stepped in front of him and slammed a hand to his chest to stop him.
He sucked in a breath. “I swear to God, Xan, I will fucking lay you out right now.”
“Pull yourself together!” Xander shouted in his face, spit hitting him. “You cannot lose your shit now, man. Bean needs you. She needs all of us. So fucking focus.”
Gavin’s chest squeezed painfully, as if someone had reached in and ripped out his insides—lungs, guts, heart. All of it. Holy fuck, this can’t be happening.
He wheezed out a breath and bent over, his hands on his knees.
“She’s everything to me,” he whispered. “I love her so damn much and I’ve never even told her.” Bile rose in his throat at the thought of anything happening to her. “I can’t fucking lose her. I can’t.”
Xander’s hand slapped down on his left shoulder and squeezed. “And you’re not going to, brother. We all love Bean. She’s like everyone’s sister. We know how you feel about her, man. You’ll get the chance to tell her how much you love her. To her face.”
Gavin straightened and sucked in a breath. Fear and rage twisted inside him, leaving his hands trembling. If he had to burn down the goddamn world to bring back Bean in one piece, so be it. But Xander was right. In order to do that, he needed to get his shit together.
He blew out another breath and flexed his hands. He met his friend’s gaze and swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Bean means the fucking world to me.”
“I know. But you aren’t going to be any use to her dead. We need a fucking plan. When you’ve got yourself under control, meet us in the conference room and we’ll get to work.”
Gavin glanced around his destroyed office and nodded. “Thanks. Appreciate you, brother.”
Xander lifted his chin. “I’ve always got your back, man. Always. ”
Ten minutes later, everyone was gathered in the large conference room with Esme and Tiny on the Smartboard. The door was open, and the cyber team hustled in and out.
Gavin frowned. Abbot was seated in Bean’s usual spot, which was just all kinds of fucking wrong. He paced the length of the room. His mind was in a whirl, and his heart was twisted in a painful knot.
Taking in his colleagues, the tension in the room was thick. He took a moment to calm himself down. Keep your shit together, dammit . “What do we know?”
“Constance and her bodyguard are still in the resort’s dining room,” Abbot said. “Bean’s phone is turned off, but it last pinged at Jackson Cove State Park. The tracker on her phone showed her off trail about a quarter mile in.”
Quinn cleared his throat. “Deputy Chase is standing watch at the resort and will detain Whitcomb the moment she starts driving. I’ve updated him on the situation and that—” He frowned when his phone rang. After answering, he remained silent as he listened to the person on the other end, his frown deepening.
Gavin’s gut rolled. Something was wrong.
“Fucking hell, Chase,” Quinn growled. “Do not let Constance Whitcomb out of your sight. I’m on my way.” He disconnected his call and looked at Gavin with fury in his eyes. “One of the guests in the dining room had an allergic reaction. Chase confirmed it was Whitcomb’s bodyguard. The EMTs just got there, so he’s not sure what the bodyguard’s status is.” He headed to the conference room door. “I’ll update you when I find out more.” He turned and met Gavin’s gaze. “Call me if you need extra manpower or people to help search. Whatever you need, Frazier.”
He lifted his chin. “Thanks, man. I will.”
A second after Quinn left, Wilson and Buchanan entered and quietly took seats at the table .
Gavin blew out a breath and scrubbed his hands over his face. Holy. Fuck. “What else do we know, people?”
“The call you got came from a burner phone,” Abbot said with a frown. “However, it pinged last near Jackson Cove. The same as Bean’s did. Unfortunately, there’s no tracker on his phone, so we can’t get a more exact location than that.”
“I might have something!” Oliphant called out from his workstation outside the conference room. He rushed in with his laptop in his hands and took a seat at the table. His fingers flew over his keyboard, and within seconds, his laptop screen was on the Smartboard. It showed video surveillance from a ferry. “I was going over the frame-by-frame analysis of the Constance Whitcomb footage and here”—he paused the video—“she talks briefly to the person in the coffee line behind her. And if you zoom in on his face...”
Gavin’s eyes narrowed at the grainy image. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. “Is that...”
“Branson Whitcomb,” Oliphant answered.
Holy motherfucking shit.
“Just to double-check, I ran this image and one of him I pulled off his Instagram through Tiny’s facial-rec program, and it’s a match. Then I saw this photo on his social media.” Oliphant added another photo to the screen. It was Branson on the beach with a young woman in a tiny white bikini tucked against his side. “That chick is the infamous Elena Nabers.” Her driver’s license photo was added to the screen. “I also double-checked her photos through Tiny’s program. It’s another match.”
Witherspoon rushed into the room. “I got Branson’s vehicle info from the ferry. It’s a rental but registered under his name. The Jackson Cove trailhead cameras show his car’s still parked in the lot. Bean’s car is still there as well.” He held up a large box and set it on the conference room table. “Here are the comms. I know Bean usually takes the lead, but between me and Abbot, we’ll have everyone’s back.”
Gavin’s heart was beating wildly in his chest. He wanted to rage, wanted to scream, wanted to tear Branson Whitcomb limb from fucking limb. But this wasn’t about him, dammit. Bean needed him. Needed them. He glanced at the time and then met the gazes of each of his teammates. “We have an hour and fifteen minutes until this fucker calls me. Let’s go get our girl.”