“That’s bullshit.” A Texas drawl rolled beneath Slayton’s words. “He’s not—”
“The kidnapper told you to ‘clean house,’ ” Luke said, keeping his voice flat. “That word choice was deliberate. He was telling us where to find your son.”
But Slayton Warrant adamantly shook his head. “No, that jerkoff on the phone was just trying to rattle me. He needs to understand, I don’t get rattled.”
Kim’s gaze once again met his. He couldn’t miss the disgust in her stare. Luke cleared his throat and said, “Mr. Warrant, you do understand that recently a kidnapping victim was found murdered, just outside of his parents’ estate.”
Warrant’s eyes narrowed. “You tryin’ to tell me it’s the same kidnappers?”
Too early to know for certain. But… “While the teams prepare, I’ll need to ask you some questions.”
Warrant shook his head. “No, no questions. I’m going on the air again. I’m raising the stakes. One hundred thousand. That will get the snakes to crawl out and turn on each other. I’ll have Adam back here in an hour’s time.”
The guy just didn’t get it.
“A man will do anything for money.” Warrant’s thick brows pulled low. “Learned that a long time ago.”
“Then you should know,” came Kim’s smooth voice, “that these kidnappers are going to be very, very angry if they think they aren’t getting their money.”
Warrant blinked at her.
Jesus—had that thought not even occurred to the guy? “Sir, I’d advise against going on the air right now.” Luke crossed his arms over his chest. “How did the kidnappers first contact you?”
Warrant tried to step around him. Luke just moved with him. “Sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear.” He let the steel flow in his words. Not so cool anymore. “How did the kidnappers first contact you?” They were losing time, and he wasn’t going to dick around.
If there was a chance, any chance, that Adam Warrant was still alive, Luke was jumping on it. “I need to know every detail,” Luke demanded, “and I need to know it now.”
He’d already ordered cadaver dogs, but, dammit, he wanted to be wrong. He wanted to have hope. And he wanted to find Adam Warrant alive.
“Be careful,” Sam said, the words tumbling out. She hugged Max, letting her arms hold him a bit too long and a bit too tight. She’d given him her gun. The butt of the holster scraped against her arm when she held him. Knowing that he had the weapon didn’t make her feel better.
It made her more afraid.
Frank waited near the doorway with thick, black duffel bags in each hand and sweat beading his brow.
“It’s gonna be just fine,” Beth said, leaning in close to Frank, a wobbly smile on her lips. “You’ll get him back.” Her fingers shook a bit as she skimmed her hand down his chest. “In less than an hour, this will all be over.”
Frank didn’t smile back at her. A light coating of gray stubble lined his jaw. Right then, he looked older, weaker. After a silent moment, he turned away from Beth and said, “Max! Dammit, come on.”
Max stared down at Sam, then he leaned in close and whispered against her ear. “If your team messes this up, I’ll crucify them.”
“Don’t worry, love,” she told him, and let her eyes squeeze shut. “This will go down like clockwork,” she whispered back, hoping it was true. “Make the drop and bring your brother back.”
He kissed her. Last time. Then he was gone, hurrying with Frank to the car that waited just outside.
Sam didn’t follow him. Not part of her role. Her role was to pretend to be the supportive girlfriend so she didn’t make anyone out there nervous.
No one wanted the kidnappers nervous. Nervous men were dangerous.
“I think I need a drink,” Beth muttered. “One big, heavy drink.” She headed toward Frank’s office. Sam waited until the other woman disappeared then she pulled out her phone and typed in one quick message.
Body?
The cadaver dogs didn’t turn up anything at the first two locations, but the instant Monica walked into the old garage on Murrows Road, she knew the ending for Adam Warrant wasn’t going to be a good one.
The dogs stood just inside the entrance, sunlight streaming down on them. Their handlers held them back, but the dogs’ tension was evident in the tight lines of their bodies. “Him.” Monica pointed to the smaller dog, the one with his nostrils flaring and his front paws braced apart. “Keep him tight, but let’s see where he leads us.”
Kim was at her back. “This place has been closed for the past three months, but there were fresh tire tracks outside,” Kim said. After the search, they’d photograph and make molds of them, if this scene went down the way the knot in Monica’s stomach told her it would.
They trekked through the dust-filled lobby and went past the wall of heavy machinery. Turned to the left, the right. A tight hallway snaked down the middle of the building. The place was just like a maze.
And then the smell hit her, slapping her right in the face. It was a smell that Monica knew all too well. Her shoulders stiffened. “Pull the dog back.” There was no need for him to go inside that room in the back. Keep the scene clear. She understood exactly how to work the area, but…
But for a moment, she hesitated before that door. So much damn death. Sometimes, it felt like she was always surrounded by death. Except when I’m with Luke. Luke brought her back to life.
As she stood before the door the scent choked her, but she knew she had to keep her game face on. Keep the image up. Over the years, Monica had gotten plenty of practice at masking her emotions. Ice. Yes, she knew the nickname was still whispered about her, but the folks who whispered were wrong. She might look like nothing cracked her shell, but Luke had slipped right past and gotten to her.
Monica lifted her hand, motioned to the others to stay back, and pulled out her gun. Her gloved fingers curled around the butt and her left hand pushed against the door. One, two…
Monica went in low and fast, with Kim coming up behind her. The other woman’s gun was out and up, too. A quick sweep of the room and—
“Clear,” Monica whispered, and pity had her heart slowing.
Slayton Warrant would be getting his son back today.
Adam’s body lay on the floor, spreadeagled just like the last victim. Long, deep slices covered his face and arms, and his throat had been slit from ear to ear.