Читать книгу Hard Core Law - Angi Morgan - Страница 12

Chapter Four

Josh pulled Tracey to his chest, wrapping his arms around her, keeping someone he cared about safe. He stared at the green pajamas decorated with pictures of yellow trucks—dump trucks, earthmovers, cranes and he didn’t know what else. He used to know.

How long had it been since he’d played in the sandbox with the kids? Since he’d been there for dinner and their bath time?

Mixed feelings fired through his brain. He couldn’t start down the regret road. He needed to concentrate on the twins’ safety. The overpowering urge to protect Tracey wasn’t just because she was an unofficial member of the family.

Tenoreno had hired someone to assault her and steal his children. Her cuts and bruises—dammit, he should have been there to protect her. To protect all of them.

“There has to be something we can do to make this go faster.” She pressed her face against his chest and cried.

It was the first time to cry since she’d entered the house today. He fought the urge to join her, but once a day was his limit. If he broke down again, he wouldn’t be able to function. Or act like the guy who might know what he was doing.

A knock at the door broke them apart. Tracey went to the corner table and pulled a couple of Kleenex from the box.

“Yeah?” It could only be one of two people on the other side. Bryce or Agent McCaffrey.

“You fill her in yet?” McCaffrey stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

Tracey looked up after politely blowing her nose; a questioning look crinkled her forehead.

“We were just getting there.”

“Here’s the phone you can use to contact us. We won’t be far away.”

“But far enough no one’s going to notice.” Josh took the phone and slid it into his back pocket.

“Anyone following you will see the obvious cars. They’ll lose you after a couple of miles, but George and I will be there.”

“Josh?” Tracey said his name with all the confusion she should be experiencing. After all, he’d just demanded the FBI and police leave him alone, get out of his house and off the case.

“It’s okay, Tracey. All part of the plan. We need the kidnappers to think I’m in this on my own. No help from anyone. Hopefully that’ll limit what they ask me to do.”

When he left the house he’d have a line of cars following and hoped it didn’t look like a convoy. A bad feeling smothered any comfort he had that law enforcement would be close by.

“So everything you just said—”

“Was the truth. Every word.” He shot her a look asking her to keep that info to herself.

He knew that stubborn look, the compressed lips, the crossed arms. It would soon be followed by a long exhale after holding her breath. Sometimes he wanted to squeeze the air from her lungs because she held on to it so long. Each time he knew she wasn’t just controlling her breathing. She was also controlling her tongue because she disagreed with what he was saying or doing.

Mainly about the kids.

Lately, it had been about how often he worked late or how he had avoided necessary conversations. Like the one congratulating her on finishing her thesis. Yeah, he’d avoided that because it would open the door to her resignation. What they needed to talk about was serious. She’d most likely accepted a position somewhere—other than Waco. If he could, he’d also like to avoid a conversation about what happened two weeks ago when they’d kissed.

This time, he could see that she didn’t believe the lines he was spouting to the FBI. He just hoped that Special Agent McCaffrey couldn’t read her like a book, too. Then he might suspect Josh had his own agenda.

“I don’t think they’ll wait very long to make contact after I leave.” The agent unbuttoned his jacket and stuck his hands in his pockets. “My belief is that they knew about Jackson’s diabetes and believe it will scare you into following their orders faster. If they didn’t, they’ve seen the pump by now and are scared something might happen to him. Either way, I don’t think they’re really out to hurt the kids.”

Agent McCaffrey stood straight—without emotion—in his official suit and tie. Just how official—they’d find out if he kept their deal to let Josh work the case from the inside.

“But you can’t be sure of that,” Tracey said. “How can anyone predict what will happen.”

Tracey was right about part of Josh’s inner core. He was a Texas Ranger through and through. He’d try it the legal way. But if that didn’t work, they’d see a part of him he rarely drew upon.

“George said you held up at the hospital exceptionally well, Miss Cassidy.”

McCaffrey had a complimentary approach, where George looked like a laid-back lanky cowboy leaning on a fence post. Josh had met George several times on cases. He trusted him. George had given his word that McCaffrey would be on board. But Tracey didn’t know any of that history. She had no reason to trust any of them.

“Don’t I get a phone for you to keep track of my location?” Tracey asked.

“Actually, yes.” McCaffrey handed her an identical cheap phone to what they’d given him. “By accepting this, you’re allowing us to monitor it.”

The man just didn’t have the most winning personality. Josh saw the indignation building within Tracey and couldn’t stop her.

“Were you really going to wait for my permission? That seems rather silly to ask. Just do it.” Her words seemed more like a dare. She was ready to go toe to toe with someone.

“Tracey. That’s not the way things are.” Standing up for the FBI wasn’t his best choice at this precise moment. Tracey looked like she needed to vent.

“Have you ruled me out as a suspect?” she asked.

Why was she holding her breath this time? Did she have something to hide? Josh opened his mouth to reason with her, but McCaffrey waved him off.

“I have a lot of experience with kidnappings, Tracey. I imagine you’re familiar with the statistics that most children are abducted by someone in their immediate family or life. My people ran our standard background check on you first thing. We would have been reckless not to.” He leaned against the doorjamb not seeming rushed for time or bothered by her hostility. “A reference phone call cleared you.”

Tracey stiffened. She drew her arms close across her chest, hugging herself, rubbing her biceps like she was cold. Her hand slipped higher, one finger covering her lips, then her eyes darted toward the window. She was hiding something and McCaffrey had just threatened to expose whatever it was.

“Tracey, what’s going on?”

“We’re good, Josh.” The agent looked at Tracey.

She nodded her head. “I don’t know why I said anything. I was never going to keep you from tracking this phone.” Tracey sank to the footstool. “I already told you I’d cooperate and do anything for Jackson and Sage.”

The special agent in charge crossed the room and patted Tracey’s shoulder. He’d done the same thing to Josh earlier, but it didn’t seem to ease Tracey. There was nothing insincere in his gesture. But it seemed a more calculated action, as though McCaffrey knew it was effective. Not because it was real comfort.

Josh wanted to throw the agent out of his kids’ room and be done with the FBI. “Do you need anything else?” he asked instead.

“I can’t help you if you keep me out of the loop, Josh.” McCaffrey quirked an eyebrow at Josh’s lack of a reaction. “You’ve got to work with my people to get the children back. We stick with the plan.”

“That’s all nice and reasonable, but we both know that there’s nothing logical about a kidnapping. You can never predict what’s going to happen.”

“The quicker you pick up that phone and let us know what they want the better.”

“The quicker you clear out of here, the faster they’ll contact us.” Josh’s hands were tied. He had to work with the FBI, use their resources, find the kidnappers. Or at least act like he was being cooperative. He sighed in relief when the agent left and softly closed the door behind him.

What the hell was wrong with him?

His twins had been kidnapped. It was natural to want to bash some heads together. But for a split second there, he’d wanted to just do whatever Tenoreno’s men wanted and hold his kids again.

Tracey was visibly shaken by whatever McCaffrey’s team had uncovered. His background check five years ago when he’d hired her hadn’t uncovered it. And in the time that she’d been around his family, she’d never shared it. He had his own five years of character reference. No one else’s mattered.

“I don’t know what that was about.” He jerked his thumb toward the closed door. Should he ask? “Right now I don’t care.”

“I swear I was never... It’s just something I keep private. But I can fill you in. I mean, unless it’s going to distract you. This shouldn’t be about me.”

“Will it make a difference to what’s going to happen?” Sure, he was curious, but what if she was right and it did distract him? The FBI didn’t think it was relevant. He could wait until his family was back where they belonged. “You know, we have more important things to worry about, so save it.”

“Okay.” Tracey sat straight, ready to get started. “So how is this going to work? Do you think the kidnappers will use my phone to call yours again? Wait!” She popped to her feet. “We don’t have your phone. It’s downstairs.”

Josh blocked her with an outstretched arm. “If it rings, Bryce will let us know. He’ll come up here before he leaves and that won’t be until everyone else is out of the house.”

They stared a second or two at each other. He wanted to know what she was hiding from him. She bit her lip, held her breath, and then couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Tracey, we have to trust each other. If you don’t want to go through with this...”

“Of course I want to help. It’s my fault they’re missing. I don’t know how you’re being kind to me at all or even staying alone in the same room. I’m not sure I could do it.”

“I don’t blame you for what’s happened. How can I?” He kept a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t fight to get away. “I’m beating myself up that I didn’t put a security detail on all of you. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. Tenoreno has come after three of my men and their families. Why did I think you or the kids weren’t vulnerable?”

“We have to stop blaming ourselves,” she said softly. “If you have a plan, now might be the time to share it with me.”

“It’s not so much a plan as backup. What I said before McCaffrey came in, I meant it. But if I can keep the FBI on my side...we’re all better off.”

A gentle knock stopped the conversation again. “They’ve cleared out, Major. I’ve secured all the windows and doors. Here’s your phone.” Ranger Johnson said through the door.

Josh turned the knob and stuck out his hand. “Thanks, Bryce. You guys know what to do. My temporary replacement’s going to have a tough time. The other men are going to resent that he’s there. They’re also going to want to help with the kidnapping. You’ve got to make the men understand that none of you can get involved and that those orders come from me.”

“Good luck. And sir—” Bryce shook his hand, clasping his left on top of it “—let’s make sure it’s just a temporary replacement. You know we’re all here when you need us.”

“We appreciate that.”

“I think this is one time that One Riot, One Ranger shouldn’t apply. I’ll take care of things.” Bryce walked downstairs.

Tracey gently pushed past Josh, nudging herself into the hall. “I can’t stay in their room any longer. And I really think I need a drink.”

Josh followed her. “But you don’t drink. And probably shouldn’t, with a concussion.”

“Don’t you have some Wild Turkey or Jim Beam? Something’s on top of the refrigerator, right? It’s the perfect time to start.”

“Yeah, but you might not want to start with that.” How did she know where he kept his only bottle of whiskey?

“Actually, Josh, I went to college. Just because you’ve never seen me drink doesn’t mean it’s never happened. A shot of whiskey isn’t going to impair my judgment.”

She was in the kitchen, pulling a chair over to reach the high cabinet before he could think twice about helping or stopping. He sort of stared while she pulled two highball glasses reserved for poker night that had been collecting dust awhile. A finger’s width—his, not her tiny fingers—was in the glass and she frowned before sliding it toward him across the breakfast bar.

“Drink up. You need it worse than I do.”

He stared at it. And at her.

She suddenly didn’t look like a college student. He noticed the little laugh lines at the corner of her eyes and how deep a green they were. It took him all this time to realize she was wearing a Waco Fire Department T-shirt under the baggy scrub top. Something he’d never seen her wear before.

She threw the whiskey back and poured herself another. “Am I drinking alone?”

He swirled the liquid, took a whiff. That was enough for him. Clearheaded. Ready to get on the road. That’s what he needed more than the sting and momentary warmth the shot would provide.

Tracey threw the second shot back, closing her eyes and letting the glass tip on its side. Her eyes popped open as if she’d been startled. Then they dropped to the phone that was resting next to his hand, vibrating.

Her hand covered the cell.

His hand covered hers.

“Wait. Three rings. It’ll allow the FBI time to get their game face on.”

Ring three he uncovered her hand and slid through the password, then pushed Speaker.

“Time for round one, Ranger Parker. You get a new phone from a store in Richland Mall. We’ll contact you there in half an hour. Bring the woman.”

The line disconnected.

“Do they really think that no one is listening to those instructions he just gave us?” Tracey asked.

“We follow everything he says. He’ll try to get us clear of everyone. We get the phone, but the next time he makes contact—before we do anything else—we get proof of life.” Josh dropped the phone in his shirt pocket realizing that the kidnappers had just made Tracey a vital part of their plan. “I hoped they’d leave you out of this. We just need to know both kids are okay before I argue to take you out of the equation.”

“Of course.” She hurried around the end of the breakfast bar, grabbing the counter as she passed.

“You look a little wobbly. You up for this?”

“You probably should have stopped me from drinking alcohol when I have a head injury and they gave me pain meds.” Tracey touched her swollen cheek and the side of her head, then winced.

Josh held up a finger, delaying their departure. He walked around her and pulled an ice pack from the freezer, tossing her an emergency compress. “This should help a little.” Then he pulled insulin cartridges from the fridge, stuffing them inside Jackson’s travel and emergency supplies bag.

Instead of her cheekbone, Tracey dropped the cold compress on her forehead and slid it over her eyes. “You’re right.” She took off to the front door. “You should definitely drive.”

Proof of life. That’s what they needed. He looked around his home. Different from the madhouse an hour ago. Different because the housekeeper had come by this morning. Different because Gwen was no longer a part of it.

Different because Tracey was.