Читать книгу Her Mistletoe Protector - Laura Scott - Страница 11

TWO

Nick slammed his foot down hard on the accelerator, racing to Rachel’s location, his heart pounding in his chest. Earlier that day, he hadn’t been entirely convinced her stalker was really someone from the Mafia. But the threats had been enough that he couldn’t bear to leave her totally on her own, so he’d followed Rachel to her son’s basketball game without telling her he was nearby.

Now he realized his instincts had been right on. The panic in her tone gripped him by the throat and he couldn’t help feeling that this was his fault for not doing more to keep her safe. He saw Rachel and Joey leaving the school after the game, but at that moment he’d taken a call from his boss, questioning why he’d taken on Rachel’s stalker case. He’d explained about the possible mob connection, which had eased his captain’s concern. But in the time it had taken him to placate his boss, Rachel and Joey had disappeared from sight.

His fault for not telling her he was there. And if something bad happened to Rachel and Joey, he’d never forgive himself. As he drove, he silently prayed for their well-being.

Please, Lord, keep Rachel and Joey safe in Your care. Amen.

The closer he got to the location she’d given him, the more his gut tightened with fear and worry. And when he saw her mangled car wedged against the guardrail, his stomach dropped. He was surprised to see there weren’t any police cars or ambulances at the scene. As he pulled over, Rachel was there, limping and crying, making her way down the road. He bolted from his car and ran toward her. “Rachel, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“He took Joey!” She grabbed his arm in a tight grip. “You have to do something! Right now!”

“Which way did they go?”

“N-north.”

“All right, let’s go.” He took her arm since she was shaking so badly he was afraid she wouldn’t be able to stay upright. She managed to hang on long enough to climb into his car. He slid quickly into the driver’s seat.

As he drove he reached for the radio. “I have to call my boss, tell him to send a chopper. The truck will be easier to find from the air at night.”

“Wait! I have a text message.”

He froze, watching as she pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her pink hoodie sweatshirt.

“Oh, no,” she whispered.

“What is it?”

“Don’t call the police or I’ll kill him.” She lifted her tortured gaze to his. “I knew it! I knew the mob was after me. And now they’ve kidnapped Joey!”

Every instinct he possessed told him to radio for backup, but Rachel had grabbed his arm again, squeezing so tight he winced as her nails dug painfully into his skin. “We have to find him. We have to get to Joey!” she sobbed.

“Rachel, I know you’re scared, but let’s calm down and think this through. We need to get the helicopters to go after that black truck.”

“If that guy sees the police he’ll kill Joey. You don’t know how ruthless the Mafia can be. Please don’t do anything that will hurt my son. Please!” Her green eyes implored him to listen.

He pressed harder on the accelerator, going well above the speed limit. He wished a cop would try to pull him over, because then they’d have their badly needed backup.

“This is all my fault. They have Joey and it’s all my fault,” Rachel moaned.

He glanced over at her, wishing there was something he could say to make her feel better. But he knew only too well what it was like to lose a child.

“There!” Rachel’s excited shout drew him out of his depressing thoughts. “That’s the black truck that hit me.”

He couldn’t believe they’d found the black truck here, on the side of the road. But as they came closer, it was clear that the vehicle had been abandoned. Was it possibly a different truck? No, the damage to the front bumper convinced him they had the right vehicle. The passenger-side door was left hanging wide open, as if someone had grabbed Joey and taken off running without bothering to shut the door behind him.

He scanned the area, but there wasn’t much he could see in the darkness outside the glow from his headlights. He could tell that beyond the open cornfield was a subdivision full of houses, many of them twinkling with various holiday lights. The kidnapper could be anywhere. Either on foot or—if he wasn’t working alone—in another vehicle.

“Where are they? Where’s Joey?” Rachel barely waited for him to stop the car before she was out and racing over to see for herself.

He followed hot on her heels, ready to prevent her from disturbing any evidence. But he needn’t have worried.

She simply stood there, staring inside the empty truck, her eyes welling with tears. “They’re gone,” she whispered.

He curled his fingers into helpless fists, knowing there wasn’t any way to put a positive spin on this latest turn of events.

Joey was gone and Nick didn’t have a clue as to where he might be.

* * *

Rachel shivered, ice creeping slowly through her bloodstream like a glacier. She’d been so certain they’d find the black truck. Find Joey.

But her son was still missing.

“Come on, Rachel. I have to call my boss,” Nick urged, putting a hand beneath her elbow to nudge her away from the truck.

She didn’t move, couldn’t seem to tear her gaze from the empty truck. Joey had been in there, with a hood over his face. She couldn’t bear to think of how frightened her son must be. “Hang in there, Joey,” she whispered, as if he could hear her. “I’m coming to get you.”

“Rachel, there’s nothing more we can do here. Not until we get a forensic team to go through the truck to pick up trace evidence.”

“No cops,” she said weakly, even though she knew it was too late. Nick was a cop and she’d called him right before the crash. And obviously they needed all the help they could get to find Joey. Her frozen brain cells finally put a few pieces of the puzzle together. “How did you get to me so quickly?” she asked with a frown.

He shrugged and ducked his head before he abruptly turned away, heading back to his vehicle. She forced her legs to follow him, wincing as she stepped on a stone with her foot that didn’t have a shoe.

“Wait,” she said, stopping him once again as he reached for the radio. “Can you call this incident in as a hit-and-run? Without mentioning Joey?”

“Rachel, you know that’s not smart,” he said with a heavy sigh. “I get that they have you running scared, but the more people searching for your son, the better.”

Logically, she could agree, but there was nothing logical about her feelings regarding the mob. And she was convinced that her husband’s uncle, Frankie Caruso, was the mastermind behind Joey’s kidnapping. “You don’t understand,” she said brokenly, wishing she could convince him. “If they get any sense that the police are involved there’s nothing to stop them from killing him.”

“Why would they kidnap your son in the first place?” he asked. “You have to admit, kidnapping is a huge leap from stalking.”

She drew her arms across her jacket, trying to maintain some warmth in the cold December night. Her left ankle throbbed, but she shoved the pain aside. No matter how much she hurt, she wouldn’t allow anything to stop her from finding her son. “Maybe the Mafia is looking for money from my company? Money that will help them rebuild their organization?”

“It’s possible, since the Mafia has taken several big hits lately,” Nick mused. “And you think they targeted you because of your marriage to Anthony?”

“Yes. Don’t you see? It all fits! My father’s money helped me escape Anthony all those years ago, so now they want me to pay them back. That’s basically what those threatening notes said, right?”

Grimacing, Nick nodded slowly. “I guess in a twisted way, that makes sense.”

She was dizzy with relief, knowing she’d finally managed to convince him of the Mafia link. “The mob fights dirty and plays for keeps,” she murmured. “If you call in reinforcements, the dirty cops might find out and let Joey’s captors know. I just can’t take that chance.”

“Not all cops are dirty, Rachel,” Nick said, a hard edge to his tone.

She sensed she was losing the battle. “During my brief marriage to Anthony, I knew of several Chicago cops who were on his payroll. None of them would lift a finger to help me. Can you honestly say that there isn’t the possibility of dirty cops still on the force?”

He scowled as he twisted the key in the ignition. “No, I can’t tell you that as much as I wish I could. I hate knowing that some of the very men and women who are supposed to put criminals away actually join forces with them, instead. Kidnapping is a federal offense, so we could call in the FBI.”

Fear tightened her chest to the point she felt she couldn’t breathe. “Are you sure there isn’t any possibility of someone linked to the Mafia working inside the FBI, too?”

Nick let the car idle as he scrubbed his hands over his face. “No, I can’t tell you that, either. Because there was a dirty FBI agent involved in a case I worked on last summer. We arrested him, but I always wondered if there weren’t others, too. Others that we missed.”

The thought of losing her son was making bile rise to her throat. “Please, Nick. All I’m asking for is a little time. Please keep Joey’s involvement out of this for now.”

He turned his head and stared at her for a long moment. “I’m going to at least let my boss know what’s going on. I know he’s not dirty and we need someone to trust.” She wanted to protest but knew that he had a job to do. Nodding stiffly, she dropped her hand from his arm so that he could call in a crime team to investigate the crash scene and the abandoned truck.

She didn’t relax a single muscle until he disconnected the call, without once mentioning Joey. Unfortunately, her relief was short-lived when Nick punched in another number.

“Hey, I think we have another link to the Mafia angle,” he said into the phone.

She strained to hear the other side of the conversation, which she assumed was with Nick’s boss. “Yeah? Like what?”

Her heart squeezed when Nick briefly explained what had transpired. “I’d like to keep this quiet for now, while we wait for some more evidence. If the Mafia is behind this, there isn’t much to stop them from doing something drastic if they sense we’re onto them.”

“I’m not sure I like that plan, Butler.” She could hear Nick’s boss’s weary tone. “The feds won’t be happy if we don’t follow protocol.”

“Yeah, but you and I both know that there have been far too many dirty cops, both locally and at the federal level. Just give me a little time to see what we can shake out, okay?”

“All right. But keep me posted.”

“Will do.” Nick hung up the phone and then put the car in gear.

“Thank you, Nick,” she murmured softly.

“Don’t thank me,” he said in a harsh tone. “We don’t have Joey back yet. And you need to know this may not turn out the way you want it to.”

“We’ll get him back.” She wasn’t even going to consider the possibility of failure.

He let out an exasperated sigh. “I hope so, but you have to understand that we don’t have a lot of time. If we don’t hear from the kidnappers soon, I won’t give you a choice. We will call in the FBI.”

She wanted to argue, feeling deep down that calling in the FBI would be the worst thing they could do. After all, she knew from personal experience how the Mafia worked. The members of the mob were cruel and ruthless and wouldn’t hesitate to kill her son just to prove their point.

The threatening notes she’d received were right. She had screamed in agony when they’d kidnapped her son. And if they demanded a ransom, she would repay her debts in order to get him back.

Panic bubbled in her throat and she had to swallow the urge to start screaming all over again. She needed to stay calm, to think this through logically, if she was going to have any chance in finding Joey.

After several long deep breaths, she felt somewhat calm. “You never did mention how you reached me so quickly,” she said, glancing over at Nick.

There was a long silence before he admitted, “I followed you and Joey. I guess I was hoping to catch the guy in the act of leaving another note for you.”

He’d been sitting in the parking lot of the elementary school? She tried to grapple with that revelation. “I didn’t see you,” she said. “And believe me, I was on alert, searching for signs of Frankie or one of his thugs.”

Nick shifted in his seat. “I stayed in my car, a little ways down the road, just close enough to watch your vehicle.”

She wasn’t sure that news was reassuring. If she hadn’t seen Nick, maybe she’d missed the driver of the black truck, too? She couldn’t bear the thought that she may have led the kidnapper straight to her son’s location.

More deep breaths helped rein in her fear. She tried to find comfort in the fact that Nick had cared enough to try to protect her, but the image of her son being kidnapped by the driver of the truck was seared in her mind.

Helplessly, she gazed down at her phone, looking at the text message again. Don’t call the police or I’ll kill him.

Why hadn’t they already demanded money? That had to be the reason they’d kidnapped Joey. Nothing else made sense.

“We should probably stay in a hotel tonight,” Nick said, breaking into her grim thoughts. “Especially because you received those threats at both your office and your home.”

She pressed her fingertips against her aching temples, trying to think. “I guess a motel would be okay.”

“It’s our best option. For now.”

She understood the warning implication in his tone. This was a temporary plan at best. She stared down at her cell phone for another long moment, willing the kidnapper to contact her again. The sooner they told her how much money they wanted, the sooner she could get her son back, safe and sound.

“Tell me what you know about Frankie Caruso,” Nick said quietly.

Her stomach twisted into painful knots. “I’m afraid I don’t know much. I only met him for the first time at our engagement party and then again at our wedding. I knew he’d raised Anthony after his parents died, but I didn’t know about their link to the Mafia. Not until after we were married.”

Nick glanced at her, and she wondered if he thought she was an idiot for not figuring out what was going on sooner. She’d often asked herself the same thing. She didn’t like to think about how naive she was back then. She graduated college early and by twenty-five had worked her way up in her father’s company to vice president. Hours of studying meant she hadn’t dated much. Anthony had swept her off her feet with his dashing good looks and his charm.

It was only after they were married for a few months that she caught a glimpse of his dark side. But by then she’d discovered she was pregnant and tried to make the marriage work.

Until she was on the receiving end of his violent temper.

“Has Frankie been living here in Chicago?” Nick pressed.

“Early on, he did, but after Anthony won his second term as state senator, Frankie moved down to Phoenix. Anthony told me that his uncle was tired of the brutal Chicago winters.”

“But you think Frankie’s back in the area?”

She lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “Honestly, I haven’t kept track of Anthony’s uncle in the years since our divorce. I was lucky to get away from Anthony early in our marriage, shortly after Joey’s first birthday.” Two years of marriage that had seemed like a lifetime. “I suspect that since Anthony is dead, Frankie might have come back to take his place within the Mafia.”

“Rachel, there isn’t much of the Mafia left for him to return to,” he said. “I happen to know that Bernardo Salvatore and his right-hand man, Russo, are both dead.”

The news surprised her. “Really? How?”

He pressed his lips into a grim line. “I can’t go into details other than to tell you that I was there when they were killed. You have to consider there might be someone else besides Frankie Caruso after you.”

“I’m telling you there’s no one else I can think of,” she said, wishing he would believe her. “Besides, if Salvatore and this Russo guy are dead, then it makes even more sense to me that Frankie came back to Chicago. Clearly he wants to pick up the crime syndicate where Salvatore left off.”

“Maybe. I’ll try running a search on him,” Nick murmured. “It’s possible we’ll get lucky.”

She didn’t bother to tell Nick that she didn’t feel lucky. The thought of her son being held by the Mafia, alone and afraid, made fear clog her throat to the point she could barely breathe. Outside the passenger-side window, she stared at the holiday decorations lighting up people’s houses. Would Joey be back in time for Christmas? She couldn’t even imagine the possibility that he wouldn’t be.

Nick pulled up to a low-budget motel and secured two connecting rooms. She reluctantly took her room key from his hand, knowing she couldn’t relax, couldn’t rest.

Not until she found her son.

* * *

“Rachel?” She glanced up when she heard Nick call her name from the open doorway between their rooms.

“What is it?” she asked, rising to her feet and crossing over to meet him in the doorway.

“Are you hungry?”

She grimaced and shook her head. “No.” The mere thought of food made her nauseous. “You mentioned doing a search on Frankie Caruso. Do you have a laptop with you?”

“Yeah, I have my laptop,” Nick replied. “So far, I haven’t found much.”

Frankie Caruso was too smart to leave an obvious trail. She kept her phone gripped in her hand, unable to bear the thought of losing the small link that she had with Joey’s kidnapper. She hated to think of what her son might be suffering through right now. Why hadn’t they contacted her again? What were they waiting for? “We have to keep searching. We have to find something!”

“Rachel, I know you’re upset, but there isn’t much more I can do. If we don’t hear something soon, we’ll have no choice but to pull in the FBI.”

“No. We can’t.” The very thought of bringing in the authorities nearly made her double over in pain. “Your boss promised us some time, right? I’m sure the kidnappers will contact me soon.”

“All right.” There was a hint of disappointment in his gaze. She told herself she didn’t care what Nick thought of her. He couldn’t possibly imagine what she was going through. Or what she’d already suffered at the hands of the Mafia. She’d lived with Anthony for two long terrible years and had learned early on that confronting the Mafia directly only made them angry.

She didn’t want the man who’d kidnapped Joey to take his anger out on her son.

“I’m going to get something to eat,” Nick said over his shoulder. “Stay here and don’t let anyone in except for me.”

“Can I use your laptop while you’re gone?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

She waited for him in the doorway, gratefully taking the computer from his hands. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be back soon,” he said huskily, and he closed the connecting door on his side.

She opened the computer and tried to think of what little she remembered from those early days with Anthony—the places he went, the people he considered friends. She’d purposefully pushed all those bad memories out of her mind after she escaped, so dredging them up again wasn’t easy.

Typing Frank Caruso’s name into the search engine didn’t bring up many hits. She tried using Luigi Gagliano’s name too, as he was a distant cousin to Anthony.

Still nothing. And as she stared blankly at the computer, a terrible thought occurred to her.

Here she was, waiting for Joey’s kidnappers to call with some sort of ransom demand, but what if she was on the wrong track? What if Frankie didn’t want her money, but simply wanted her son?

Frankie had raised Anthony, bringing him into the world of crime at a young age. Was it possible he wanted to use Joey as a surrogate for Anthony?

Was it possible that Frankie was, right now, driving far away with her son?

Rachel’s heart rate soared as she surged to her feet. Nick had been right! They should have called the police and the FBI right away! If Frankie had kidnapped Joey for personal reasons then he already had a head start on them.

She grabbed her phone, intending to call Nick, but then forced herself to stop and think. Why would Frankie send her threatening letters, saying she would repay her debts, if he didn’t want money?

Pacing the length of the small motel room helped calm her ragged nerves. Her ankle throbbed, but she ignored it. She’d never had a panic attack like this before, not even in the dark days after Anthony had beaten her. She had to stop overreacting to every thought. Every remote possibility.

Somehow she had to be smarter than Frankie Caruso or Luigi Gagliano.

She sat down at the small desk and clicked on the mouse to reactivate Nick’s computer. There was one angle she hadn’t considered, and that was Frankie’s ex-wife, Margie Caruso. Frankie and Margie had divorced the year Rachel was pregnant with Joey, but, surprisingly, they’d stayed on friendly terms. She’d often wondered if Margie had also been involved in illegal activities; otherwise, why wouldn’t Frankie have tried to silence his ex-wife? After all, Anthony had often threatened to kill Rachel if she ratted him out.

Anthony’s threats hadn’t been empty ones, either.

And if Margie was part of the Mafia, it wasn’t a stretch to think that she could be in cahoots with Frankie on this kidnapping scheme.

A quick search revealed that Margie was still living in the Chicago area. She wrote down the address, determined to convince Nick that they needed to pay the woman a surprise visit.