Altercation Page 18

  “Not a bedroom.” Anger punctuated each word that The Hand spoke. “No windows.”

  “No windows.” He nodded. “It’s my old office.”

  The Hand stopped, blue eyes flashing. He lifted his lip in a growl. “Electronics? Computers? Phones?”

  “No, no. It’s quite in disuse. Just a few books, I’m afraid.”

  The Hand narrowed his eyes, nostrils flaring. “All right.”

  Jaci couldn’t recall ever seeing The Hand so angry. It left her uneasy.

  They went down a spiral staircase into the basement. Passing through a large sitting room with a plasma TV mounted on the wall, they stopped in front of a wooden door. The man opened it, revealing an office the size of a small bedroom, complete with a closet.

  Jaci’s eyes flitted over the room. Books, bookshelves, a wood file cabinet, and pieces of paper were the only objects inside. She started to follow Amanda into the room, but fingers dug into her shoulder, pulling her back.

  Jaci glanced behind her to see The Hand gripping her. He inclined his head at the old man, who raised a graying eyebrow and closed the door, shutting Amanda inside. Jaci’s heart jumped into her ears. Cold terror shot through her chest, paralyzing her.

  Amanda’s reaction was instantaneous. The man grimaced and held on tight to the doorknob as the girl screamed and pummeled her body into the door. “I’ll need some help here. The lock is on the inside.”

  “We’ll have to get that fixed.” The Hand’s eyes darted around the basement. “Move that china cabinet in front of the door.”

  The Grandón started toward the cabinet but the old man spoke up first. “The door opens inward.” He now had both hands on the doorknob and was using all his body to hold it closed. The door rattled in the frame.

  The Hand dug his fingers deeper into Jaci’s shoulder. “Open the door and knock her out.”

  The Grandón changed directions and took the doorknob from the old man. He pushed the door open. Jaci strained her ears, but all she heard was a thump.

  The Hand snapped out more orders as the Grandón exited the room. “Get a screwdriver and switch that knob around. I want it done before I get back.” He used his grip on Jaci to guide her up the stairs.

  She forced herself to breathe. It’s okay. Whatever happens, you can get through this. Her words did nothing to stop the way her hands trembled.

  The Hand and the Creep led her down a hall with beige walls and soft blue carpet. Portraits of various sizes adorned the wall. What kind of man had pictures of himself and his grandchildren in the same hall where he consorted with kidnappers?

  Someone like her father.

  Her knees went weak at the thought. The Hand opened a door and pushed her inside. She sank down on the plush carpet, fighting tears.

  “Close the blinds,” The Hand said to the Creep. He looked at Jaci. “Get up.”

  She pushed herself to her feet, risking a glance around. She was in a study. More bookshelves, but also a desk, and a computer, and a cordless phone.

  “Sit.” The Hand pointed at a black leather chair. She did as he said.

  He shoved the chair up to the desk. Digging around in a drawer, he pulled out a pen and slapped it in front of her, along with a sheet of paper. “Write. Exactly what I tell you to.”

  Jaci gripped the pen, her hand shaking.

  “Daddy.” He waited a moment, and then shouted, “Write it!”

  She scribbled the word across the top of the page.

  “I am safe. For now.”

  She wrote the next five words and felt the blood drain from her face. She was writing a letter to her father.

  “Time is running out. If you want to see me again, please electronically transfer four million dollars into this bank account.” The Hand rattled off several numbers. “Here’s the routing number. It’s under the name of Andrea Bobleta. This name is fictitious. You won’t find the person anywhere so don’t bother.

  “You have seventy-two hours. I know this is a lot of money, but I know you have it. If you want to free Amanda, please also deposit four million for her. At the end of seventy-two hours, depending on what you’ve done, we will either be released to the FBI or sold into slavery. If that happens, no one will ever see us again.”

  The Creep interrupted. His Latin accent slurred with exhaustion. “Shouldn’t we offer proof? Of what we are going to do to her?”

  The Hand looked at the man and then at Jaci. “Yes. Get a digital camera from Er—our host. We’ll send him a picture of her.”

  The man slipped out of the room.

  “Keep writing.”

  Jaci flexed her fingers, her head throbbing.

  “Please don’t let them hurt me, Daddy. I don’t want this for my life. Please save me.”

  She couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down her cheeks as she wrote the words. She hated The Hand, hated him for making her use these words against her father. Hated her father for putting her in this position where she could be pitted against him. And she hated how desperately she hoped he could come up with the money.

  “Love, your baby girl, Jaci.” He waited while she wrote out the last line. “Now sign your name.”

  The other man came back in and handed a camera to The Hand. He took it and looked back at Jaci. “Take your clothes off.”

  The Creep’s black eyes lit up, all signs of sleepiness disappearing. A sinister smile curled around his lips.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Nobody said a word to Seth in the morning. Megan stuck close to Neal and Ricky, hiding the hurt she felt over Seth’s betrayal. They left Seth alone in the hotel room and went down to the lobby for breakfast. Neal spilled milk on Ricky’s sweater, and the two of them bickered over it. Megan laughed and pretended like she didn’t see Seth sit down at another table.

  They cleared their trash and Megan pulled the car keys from her pocket. Why did she care, anyway? Seth was a jerk. Why should it surprise her that he could just let her walk away without a word?

  She refused to look at him. She brushed her hair out of her face and kept her eyes down, walking in front of Neal and Ricky. She stepped out of the motel and a cold wind cut through her jacket, making her shiver.

  “There’s the car.” Neal put a hand on her shoulder and pointed, steering her in the right direction.

  The automatic glass door opened behind them and Seth stepped out. “Wait.”

  The three turned. Megan squinted against the sharp air, focusing on the tall, dark-haired boy.

  Seth approached them, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. He blinked, dark shadows under his brown eyes. “Hey, I’m sorry. I was such an arrogant idiot last night. Let me help.”

  Ricky crossed his arms over his chest. “You were an ass.”

  Megan flinched and glanced at Seth, fearful for his reaction. But he only nodded.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I was.”

  Ricky exhaled and unfolded his arms. “You’re Jaci’s brother. She’d want you to come.”

  “On one condition,” Neal said.

  Seth tightened his jaw and nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “We’re in charge.” He indicated Ricky with his head. “You can give your opinion. But we run the show.”

  Seth narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

  “We’ve had more experience with subterfuge. Or do you disagree?”

  Seth’s eyebrows shot up. “No. No, that’s fine.”

  “Great.” Ricky held his hand out to Seth. “Let’s start over then. Hi, I’m Ricky.”

  Seth took the offered hand. “Hi. You were close to Jaci, weren’t you?”

  A shadow crossed over Ricky’s face. “I am close to Jaci.”

  “Did she ever mention me?”

  There was no mistaking the hope in Seth’s voice. M
egan remembered he asked her the same thing the night they met.

  “Yes,” Ricky answered without hesitating. “That’s why you get the second chance, man.”

  Seth smiled. Megan had never seen him smile before. Not like that. “Thanks.”

  “Let’s get going.” Neal nodded his head toward the parking lot. “We can chat later.”

  “All right.” Megan gave a careful sigh as she started the car. In truth, she hated driving in unfamiliar cities and hadn’t minded at all when Seth drove them around.

  Neal climbed into the passenger seat. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Uh-huh.”

  Seth sat behind Neal. “So what’s the plan, fearless leader? And what was your name again?”

  “I’m Neal. That’s Ricky.”

  “We’re twins,” Ricky said.

  “Yeah, no kidding. What’s the plan, Neal?”

  “Megan, let’s get back to the last McDonald’s you went to.”

  “Um.” Megan stared at the road in front of her. Where on earth was that McDonald’s now? She could feel her face getting hot.

  Neal studied her. “Want me to drive?”

  “Please.” She put the car back in park and took her foot off the brake.

  Ricky got out of the car. She looked at him in surprise.

  “Do you mind if I sit up front with Neal? If it’s not a big deal.” He glanced toward the backseat and lowered his voice. “If you don’t want to sit with Grumpy, I totally understand.”

  Her eyes flicked to Seth. “No. I don’t mind.”

  “Thanks, Megan.”

  Neal waited for Ricky to close the door before backing up. “All right, here’s the plan. I’m going back to the McDonald’s. Keep your eyes open for an overpass. Anything else, Ricky?”

  Ricky hooked his fingers around the handle bar above the window. “Yeah. We need a scanner.”

  Seth crinkled his brow. “A what?”

  “A police scanner.”

  “What for?”

  Ricky glanced over his shoulder at him. “To listen to the police, Rivera. Duh.”

  “Of course. What a great idea.”

  “Okay.” Neal drove the car over to the side of the street and stopped. “Before we go any further. Where do we buy a scanner?”

  Ricky pulled on his earlobe. “Radio Shack. Someone in there will probably know the police frequencies.”

  Megan worked on programming their new scanner while Neal found the last McDonald’s. He and Ricky left her in the car with Seth while they took a look around.

  Seth watched her fiddle with the dials. “Ready for the first code?”

  She nodded, consulting the instruction booklet again. “Yes.”

  He read the numbers off to her, and she waited for the scanner to accept the programming. “This cost a lot of money, Seth.”

  “Yeah. Ready for the second?”

  She nodded. Seth had been very agreeable today. She wondered what brought it on. Being told off by Ricky? “How much cash did you take out of your account when we were in Wyoming?” She kept her voice low and her eyes down, trying not to seem too interested.

  “All of it.”

  “All of it? Where is it?”

  “In my pockets. Shoes. Socks.”

  Static erupted from the scanner. Megan tuned it a bit more and a voice came through clearly.

  “. . . breaking probation. Ankle alarm. Send unit?” The male voice paused.

  “Affirmative,” a woman said. “Unit forty-two en route.”

  Megan smiled. “Got it.”

  The door opened and Neal popped in. “Okay. Sit tight.”

  They drove nearly ten minutes from the McDonald’s, leaving behind the businesses and entering a dumpy part of town. Rusty cars flanked the street on one side, a trailer park the other side. Dull paint peeled from the only house in the area.

  “Think they dumped Crystal’s car here?” Ricky said.

  “Let’s take a look.” Neal pushed open the door and looked at Seth.

  “Stay with Megan.” His hazel eyes tracked her in the back seat. “Megan, keep on that scanner. Anything that you think might be a lead, take note.” He looked back at Seth. “I don’t want to leave her alone.”

  Seth opened his mouth like he might argue, but then shrugged. “Okay.”

  The scanner continued to spout information at intermittent intervals. “Calling all units. Ten forty-two on Vine Street, National City Bank. Suspect in silver sedan, heading east.”

  Several voices responded, indicating their pursuit. Megan quickly read over the ten codes the Radio Shack employee had provided. “Robbery in progress.”

  “Maybe it’s The Hand,” Seth said.

  “Not a chance. He knows he’s being looked for. He won’t risk it.”

  Another voice broke across the scanner. “Have a ten-seven in Loveland, on Stockton Drive.”

  Megan turned the sound down while she searched for the code.

  “Affirmative. Anyone injured?” a female voice inquired.

  “Negative. Broken window, still assessing damage. Request patrol to survey area. Second ten-seven this week.”

  Burglary. Megan hoped she would be able to memorize all these codes soon.

  Seth looked out the window and picked at the tinting. “I don’t know what to do. Where else to turn. Who can help us? Tell me about Ricky and Neal. I never knew Sara had brothers.”

  Megan flipped the scanner to another channel. “You know she was adopted, right?”

  “Jaci may have mentioned it. Can’t really recall.”

  “She was. So Neal and Ricky stayed with her biological family. They met up in New York.”

  “Oh. That was convenient.”

  “Yeah. Especially since they didn’t know about each other.”

  “Seriously?” A slight flicker of interest passed through his eyes.

  “This is Gonzales,” the scanner interrupted. “I’m staking out solo, and I’ve got a ten-eight at warehouse fifteen. Three persons. Ten fifty-seven, over.”

  Burglary in progress, requesting backup. Megan stopped talking and turned up the volume.

  “Copy, Gonzales. This is base. Are you alone, over?” Base’s feminine voice was deep and emotionless.

  “Affirmative, over.”

  Another voice joined the conversation. “Young here. We’re two blocks away on McKelvey. Can be onsite in three.”

  “Affirmative, Young,” Base said. “Gonzales, backup en route.”

  “Copy. Gonzales out.”

  “Warehouse fifteen,” Megan murmured, narrowing her eyes.

  “What? Does it mean something?”

  She tapped her fingers on the worn upholstery. “I don’t know. But an old warehouse might be a good place to hide someone.” Even so, there had to be more than a dozen old warehouses to choose from. If The Hand had even stayed in Cincinnati.

  “Well, what do we do? How do we find warehouse fifteen?”

  Megan looked out the window. Ricky and Neal approached.

  “What’d you find out?” Megan asked.

  “Police have been here, asking questions.” Ricky sounded triumphant. “So we found the right place.”

  Neal turned around to face Megan and Seth. “A little girl saw the whole thing. She was playing on the window sill.”

  Megan felt her pulse quicken. “And?”

  “Said a big blue car drove up and parked. Then another car drove up to it. A man and two girls, a redhead and a brunette, got into the first car and drove away, leaving the second car behind.”

  “Two girls,” Megan murmured. “But there should’ve been three.”

  Neal nodded. “That’s right. Should’ve been.”

&nbs
p; “How old was this girl?” Seth ran a hand over his short black hair.

  “Six or seven.”

  “Then she could’ve mixed up the details,” Megan supplied.

  “Possible,” Neal allowed, sitting down behind the wheel. “But I don’t think so. She called them Ariel and Pocahontas.”

  Megan threw herself against the seat, mulling over that information. Where was Sara? “What do we do now?”

  Neal gripped the steering wheel. “We need to tell someone. Maybe your father.”

  “Oh,” Megan said, abruptly remembering the scanner transmission. She almost hated to mention it, but she had nothing else to report. “We heard something on the scanner. Something about a warehouse. Maybe it had something to do with the girls.”

  “Warehouse? Where?”

  “I don’t know. The police referred to it as ‘warehouse fifteen.’”

  “What else did they say?”

  “That they were staking it out, and some men went in. The officer felt he needed backup and he radioed for help.”

  “But he didn’t give the address?”

  “No.”

  “But it was close to McKelvey.” Seth lifted his head. “Another officer called in and said he was two blocks away, on McKelvey. He went as backup.”

  “Does this car have GPS?” Neal asked, examining the console.

  “No,” Megan said, laughing at the idea. “It’s just an old Ford.”

  “We need a phone with GPS,” Ricky said.

  “We don’t have the cash,” Neal replied.

  “I do,” Seth spoke up loudly.

  All three of them looked at Seth.

  He ignored their stares and reached into his sock. “I’ve got money for anything we need.”

  “All right,” Neal said, turning the car on. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

  Megan didn’t take her eyes off Seth as they drove back toward the business part of town. “You’re going to use all your money.”

  He shrugged, not looking up from the wad of bills he counted. “That’s why I have it.”