Читать книгу Texas Ransom - Amanda Stevens - Страница 8

Chapter Two

Kendall had no idea what had just happened in the room behind her. She’d heard the crash of glass, a scream and then all hell broke loose. She glanced over her shoulder, trying desperately to find Graham again, but someone grabbed her arm and pulled her into the hallway.

“Hurry!” the man ordered in a raspy voice. “This way!”

“Wait!” Kendall tried to resist, but he was too strong.

“I told you. Do as I say and nobody gets hurt.” He shoved her toward the elevators, and when she stumbled, he grabbed her arm again and jerked her upright.

Dread tightened in her chest. She hadn’t seen or heard from Hector Reyes in years, not since the night she’d tried to flee Mexico for good. Not since the horrible car accident that had left her battered and scarred and wanting to die.

And then she’d opened her eyes one morning and found Graham at her bedside. She’d later learned from the doctors that she’d been unconscious for nearly a week before his arrival and had been given very little hope of survival. But somehow she must have sensed Graham’s presence. Somehow his voice had lured her from the darkness.

For days, he remained at her bedside, talking to her softly when he thought she’d drifted off. He’d been candid about the ambiguity of his feelings, perhaps because he wasn’t sure if she could actually comprehend what he was saying.

But she’d heard every word. Lying flat on her back with her face and head swathed in bandages, both arms broken and one leg in traction, drugs dulling but not obliterating the constant pain, she’d listened. And she’d wondered how any woman in her right mind could have ever allowed a man like Graham Hollister to slip away from her.

She’d vowed to herself over and over that if she was lucky enough to survive her wounds, if she was fortunate enough to have a chance to start over, she would do everything in her power to change, to become the kind of person a man like Graham deserved.

But she should have known that the past—those terrible secrets—would eventually catch up with her. That her life before the reconciliation would come back to haunt her. And just when they were thinking of starting a family.

Kendall blinked back hot tears as she stepped into the elevator. She didn’t look at the man beside her. She couldn’t.

“I told you where the money is. Take it and let me go,” she pleaded.

He was a tall, swarthy man with gleaming black eyes and flawless English. “What assurance do I have that the police won’t be waiting for me at the drop point?”

“I wouldn’t do that. You know I wouldn’t. There’s too much at stake. If anyone were ever to find out—”

He laughed. “Yes, you’ve covered your tracks well, haven’t you? You’ve always been very clever. I’ll give you that.” His voice hardened. “But the answer is no. You’re coming with me. Once I have the money, I’ll let you go.”

“Can I at least call my husband and tell him I’m okay? He’ll know something is wrong. I would never leave without telling him.”

“You’ll call him as soon as we’re safely out of the building. Trust me, you don’t want him to follow us. The situation could get very nasty.”

Kendall closed her eyes. “Please don’t hurt him—”

“As I said, no one will get hurt as long as you cooperate. So just relax and enjoy the ride. It’ll soon be over.”

“How soon?”

“As soon as I know you haven’t betrayed me. Because we both know what you are capable of, do we not?”

She suppressed another shiver as she felt his gaze sweep over her. Hector Reyes had once been employed by the same man she’d worked for in Mexico. Leo Kittering was an American ex-pat who had remarried well and used his wife’s resources to forge a powerful empire.

At one time, he’d been a major power broker, but then his only son had died, and all Kittering had been able to focus on was revenge.

Whether Hector Reyes still worked for him or not, she didn’t know, but she had a feeling that if Kittering had sent him, she would already be dead. Collecting a hundred thousand dollars in extortion money would not even be on Leo Kittering’s radar.

The elevator slid to a stop on the third floor. They got off and used the stairwell to reach the lobby level.

Hector seemed to know his way around very well. He led her quickly down a narrow corridor to an emergency exit that opened into a dead end street.

Kendall braced herself for the alarm she thought would go off when the emergency door was opened, but all remained silent. She wondered if the system had somehow been disengaged, either by Hector or perhaps an accomplice inside the building.

A black van, nearly invisible in the shadowy alley, waited nearby and inched forward as they emerged from the building. A panel slid open in the side, and Hector pushed her toward the vehicle.

As Kendall stumbled forward, someone inside the van grabbed her and pulled her inside. Hector scrambled in behind her, shoved the door closed and the van took off so abruptly, Kendall lost her balance and fell.

Huddled on the floor, she glanced around. Besides Hector and the driver, there were two other men in the back of the van, masked and armed with assault rifles. They spoke in Spanish, so low and rapid that Kendall had trouble following the conversation, even though she’d once lived in Mexico.

But she had no trouble interpreting the danger she suddenly found herself in. This was no ordinary extortion or blackmail scheme. She was being kidnapped. Obviously, the money that Hector had asked for had been a diversion, a way to get and keep her off guard. Now they would go to Graham. He would find out everything.

But it wouldn’t matter because she would be dead.

Kendall wasn’t naive enough to believe they would release her once they had what they wanted. She knew her chances.

Panic mushroomed in her throat, and it was all she could do to swallow a scream. How was she going to get away from them?

Hector picked up her evening bag, removed her cell phone and tossed it toward her. “Call your husband. Tell him you are all right and you want him to meet you at home.”

“But we’re spending the night in Houston—”

“Do it!”

Kendall mustered up a cool defiance. “Why should I? If you had any intention of letting me go, you would have taken the money and run.”

“Now you are being too clever for your own good,” Hector advised. “If you don’t do exactly as I say, this will end very badly for you. And for your husband.”

At the threat to Graham, Kendall’s courage flagged. “What do you want?” she said raggedly. “If it’s more money—”

“Some things are more important than money,” one of the men barked, his lips curling in disgust. He was tall and dark, with the cruelest eyes Kendall had ever looked into. “But someone like you would have a difficult time comprehending that.”

“What do you want from—”

“Enough!” The man hit her with the back of his hand, and Kendall fell back, stunned by the pain. Light exploded behind her eyes, and for a moment, she thought she would pass out.

Hector Reyes knelt beside her and leaning in very close, he placed his lips against her ear. “These men will kill us both if you don’t do as I tell you,” he whispered, curling her fingers around the cell phone he placed in her limp hand. “They’ll put a bullet in my skull, but you won’t be so lucky. Comprende?”

SECURITY moved quickly to seal the exits, but in the initial confusion, Graham managed to slip out of the room without being detained. He hurried down the long corridor, not knowing if Kendall had come this way or not. Or if he would be stopped before he reached the elevators. All he knew was that he had to find her.

He had no idea who the man was that she’d left with, but Graham’s first panicked thought was that the stranger was somehow connected to the attack on the ambassador. And he’d taken Kendall hostage.

But he didn’t see how that was possible. The man had been nowhere near Garza when he collapsed.

Something else niggled at Graham. When Kendall turned at the door, their gazes had clung for a moment before he’d been pushed back against the wall. But in that split second, he’d seen her face clearly. She’d looked pale and anxious, but she hadn’t been frightened.

A chill slid down Graham’s spine as he hurried toward the elevators. The notion that Kendall had left with the stranger of her own accord filled him with the darkest dread even as he told himself there had to be a logical explanation for her behavior.

When she’d walked out before, Graham had been all too willing to take the easy way out, to bury himself in his work and let their relationship drift toward divorce.

But in the five years since the reconciliation, their marriage had grown stronger every day. Or so he’d thought.

Now doubt tore through his heart, and he remembered all the hours that he’d devoted to the PemCo Oil project. All the evenings he couldn’t make it home for dinner. The trips. The cancelled plans. Had his wife again grown restless while he pursued his dream?

He would have known if she were that unhappy. They were so close. They talked every day, no matter how busy his schedule. There had to be a perfectly innocent reason for her hasty departure. There had to be—

The vibration of his cell phone inside his breast pocket cut off Graham’s thoughts, and as he pulled out the phone, he glanced at the display. It was Kendall.

Relief washed over him as he lifted the phone to his ear. “Kendall?” When she didn’t answer, Graham said anxiously, “Are you all right? Where are you?”

Still more silence. Then finally she whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what? Why did you leave like that?”

“I had to.” Her voice was low and shaky and Graham knew that something was very wrong.

“Are you sick? Why didn’t you tell me? We could have left together.”

“I didn’t want to tear you away. This is your night, Graham. And I’m sorry I ruined it.”

“I don’t give a damn about that. Just tell me what’s happened? Where are you?”

“I never wanted to hurt you. You have to believe that.”

“Tell me what’s going on, Kendall. You’re scaring the hell out of me.”

“I’ve done things, Graham. Things you don’t know anything about. But it was a long time ago. I’m not the same person I was back then. I’ve changed because of you.”

His grip tightened on the phone. “Listen to me. I don’t care what you did in the past. We’ve both made mistakes. Whatever it is, we can work it out.”

“Not this time.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I love you—” Her voice broke and Graham heard a male voice mutter something in the background.

“Who’s with you?” he demanded.

“No one. It’s not what you think.”

“I don’t know what to think! Just tell me where you are. I’ll come get you. We can talk this out. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”

He heard her draw a shaky breath. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then meet me at home. I’ll tell you everything. We’ll see then if you still want to work it out.”

The connection went dead and Graham immediately tried to call her back. Her phone rang and rang, but she’d obviously turned it off.

Cursing inwardly, Graham started toward the elevator, then stopped as the walls started to spin. He recognized the symptoms—it was an old problem—but this time the vertigo had come on so suddenly, he’d had no time to prepare, no time to focus. He could feel the eighty-five-story building sway as the walls tilted and the floor seemed to disappear beneath him.

For a moment, he imagined himself standing on one of the steel support beams, and he blindly put out a hand to steady himself. That was when he saw Kendall’s earring lying on the floor in front of the elevators. He knew it was hers because he’d given her the pear-shaped rubies as an early anniversary present.

The earring must have fallen off as she got onto the elevator. Or had she left it on purpose as some sort of clue to alert Graham that she hadn’t left of her own free will?

He was grasping at straws, Graham realized. Kendall hadn’t been coerced into leaving. He’d seen her at the door. The look in her eyes when she’d glanced back hadn’t been fear. It had been regret and Graham had no idea why.

Graham’s head was still spinning, but he knew he had to somehow get the vertigo under control. He would force himself to function because he had to. He had to find Kendall.

Clutching the earring in one hand, he stumbled toward the elevator, punched the down button and waited for the doors to slide open. As he staggered into the confined space, he stood with his back pressed against the wall, his gaze focused on the red emergency button. He didn’t look at anything else, and eventually the walls stopped spinning. His head cleared and by the time he reached the lobby, he’d managed to regain control of his equilibrium.

The huge glass-and-granite lobby was already swarming with police officers. Through the wall of windows he could see the bubblegum lights whirling atop the squad cars, and as he watched, a SWAT van pulled to the curb. Several men in armored body suits piled out of the back and headed toward the building with grim, determined expressions.

Graham quickly canvassed the lobby. Luckily no one had noticed him yet, but he hadn’t taken the time to figure out what his next move should be, let alone formulate any kind of plan. Obviously, he wasn’t getting out of the building without being seen, and even if he could, he had no way of knowing whether Kendall was still inside. But his gut told him that she was already gone, and he had a terrible feeling that if he didn’t find her soon, she would be lost to him forever.

Graham continued to study the lobby until he saw a familiar face. Earlier, when he and Kendall had first arrived, he’d struck up a brief conversation with one of the security guards. He’d manned the desk where all guests were required to sign in, and behind him, a bank of screens monitored the exits and various points inside the building.

Graham had caught a glimpse of an Astros game on one of the screens, and he’d asked the guard for the score. The man had recognized Graham’s name when he signed in, and they’d talked for several minutes about baseball and the design of the building before Graham realized that Kendall had gone over to the elevators to wait.

That same guard was still behind the desk as he watched the controlled chaos in the lobby.

Straightening his tie and then his glasses, Graham strode toward the guard without looking right or left. His formal attire would hardly allow him to blend in with the dour-faced officers in the lobby, but more often than not an air of authority was all it took. He’d learned that lesson first from his father and then from his brother.

The guard didn’t seem to notice as Graham approached. His attention was riveted on the SWAT activity outside the front doors.

Graham cleared his throat and stood a little straighter. “Excuse me.”

The guard turned. “Something I can help you with?” He was short and stocky, with thick blond hair and a round, boyish face.

“I hope so,” Graham said. “Do you remember me? We spoke earlier when I first came in. I asked you about the baseball game.”

“Oh, yeah. You’re the architect, right?

“That’s right. Graham Hollister.”

“What are you doing down here? I thought they were holding everyone upstairs.” The guard nodded toward the elevators as he hitched up his pants. He had the kind of protruding midsection that made it difficult to keep the waist of his pants from sliding down. He also wore glasses with thick black rims. He reminded Graham of a comedian who used to be on TV.

“I left before they locked the doors.”

The guard’s attention perked up. “Were you up there when it happened?”

“Yes, but I didn’t really see anything. There were too many people around.”

“Doesn’t matter. The cops are going to want to talk to you anyway. They’ll want to talk to everybody who was in that room.”

“I understand that, but I’m looking for my wife,” Graham explained. “I just want to make sure she’s all right. She came down a few minutes ahead of me. I need to know if she left the building before I arrived.”

“Not likely. HPD has the place surrounded. Nobody’s allowed in or out.”

“She may have gotten out before the lockdown. You saw her earlier when we came in. She’s wearing a red dress. Tall, slim, brunette. Very attractive. She may have had a man with her.”

The guard gave Graham a curious look. “She didn’t come through the lobby. I’m sure I would have noticed.”

“What about the other exits?”

“The front entrance was the only one open tonight. The others were locked for the evening. And even if they weren’t, I monitor all the exits from the console. I would have seen her, regardless.”

“Maybe you stepped away from your desk for a moment. Went to the bathroom or something.”

“Been right here all night.”

The guard was starting to get a little impatient, and if Graham wasn’t careful, he might not get anything else out of him. “Look, could you just please check the surveillance recording? It won’t take long.”

“I’m not authorized to do that.” The guard’s voice noticeably chilled. “Besides, I’ve already told you. Your wife didn’t come through the lobby. She didn’t leave the building through the front exit or any exit. I would have seen her. If she left the party upstairs with some guy, maybe they’re just having a cozy little chat somewhere in the building.”

He started to turn away, but Graham grabbed his arm. “Wait!”

The guard jerked away from Graham’s grasp. “Hey, take it easy, buddy. The feds are in control now, okay? I couldn’t help you out even if I wanted to. Now back off before I call a cop over here and have him personally escort you upstairs.”

The guard’s agitation attracted the attention of two men standing nearby. One was tall, thin and impeccably dressed in a dark suit while the other was shorter, stockier and more rumpled. But they both wore buzz cuts and the unmistakable air of federal authority.

The taller one said something to his partner and then strode over to where Graham stood with the security guard. “Something wrong here?”

His tone was low and amicable, but his eyes glinted with steel. He had the look of a regimented man, from his precisely knotted tie to his spit-shined loafers, and Graham knew instinctively that the guy was not someone he’d want for an enemy.

“I’m Special Agent Delacourt with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.” He flashed his ID and badge. “What seems to be the problem?”

The guard spoke before Graham had a chance to. “This man says his wife is missing. He wants to look at the security tapes so that he can see if she left the building.”

The hard eyes turned back to Graham. “When did she leave?”

“She wasn’t feeling well earlier. She came down for some fresh air. I just want to make sure she’s all right,” Graham said.

“You have some identification?”

“Of course.”

While Graham fished his wallet out of his jacket, the security guard said helpfully, “He’s the architect who designed this building.”

Delacourt cocked his head. “That right?

“Yes. My name is Graham Hollister.” He handed his driver’s license to the agent.

Delacourt glanced at it briefly, then called his partner over. “Becker, you still got that guest list HPD’s circulating?”

The shorter agent strode toward them. “What’s going on?”

“See if you can find Graham Hollister on it.”

While his partner scrutinized a sheet of paper, Delacourt refocused his attention on Graham. “You were at the reception when the shooting occurred?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see it happen?”

“No. There were too many people around. The only thing I saw was the ambassador lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Do you know anything about his condition? Is he going to be okay?”

“We don’t know yet. Did you notice anything unusual before the shooting occurred?”

Graham didn’t like the way Delacourt was looking at him. It was almost as if he suspected Graham of something. “A waiter dropped a tray of glasses right before it happened. It caused a commotion.”

Delacourt and Becker exchanged glances. “Anything else you can think of?”

“Not right offhand. Like I said, it was crowded and I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Graham Hollister’s on the list all right,” Becker confirmed.

“He says he’s the architect that designed the building,” Delacourt said.

Becker’s brows rose. “Oh, yeah? That’s convenient.”

“Isn’t it?” Delacourt turned back to Graham. “We’re going to need you to come with us.”

Graham frowned. “Why? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Delacourt and Becker exchanged another glance. “No one is suggesting that you did.”

“Then why do you need me?”

“We’re going to search this building from the ground up. You can save us a lot of time by going over the blueprints with some of our agents.”

“But—”

Delacourt gave him the hard look again. “Maybe you didn’t understand me. No one is leaving here until we’ve searched the entire building. The sooner we get started, the sooner you can get out of here and go find your wife.”

The last thing Graham wanted was to be tied up for hours, but he didn’t have a choice. He nodded wearily and followed the agents across the lobby.