Hero for Hire Read online

  Panic spiked right through her. "Please don't hurt him. I'm sorry. Please, he's only a little boy."

  "That's better." The laugh sliced into her like a scythe. And then the line went dead.

  "Hello? Hello? Answer me, damn it!" Veronica's head began to spin. She fought to keep from 'being engulfed by the sensation. "Answer me!" she screamed into the receiver.

  Very quietly Chad took the receiver from her icy hands and replaced it in the cradle.

  "We got him," he said.

  For a moment, too numb to think, it was difficult for Veronica to understand what he was saying to her. Like someone encased in an impenetrable fog, she raised her eyes to his. Chad was holding up the tiny monitor for her to see. There were numbers across it. For the first time, she realized that there were words written beneath the first row.

  She blinked, trying to assimilate the information. It looked like an address. "Is that where Casey is?"

  He sincerely doubted it. But there was always a chance. "That's where the kidnapper is calling from." Chad jotted the address down on his wrinkled pad as he began walking out of the room. "I'm going to go check this out."

  For a second she stared after him, then came to. "Wait, I'm coming with you," she told him, hurrying in his wake.

  Chad stopped at the door. He hadn't counted on this. The others had run into cases where the client had insisted on coming along, but he'd never had to deal with that problem. Until now.

  He didn't want to be responsible for anyone else except himself. "Veronica, I won't lie to you. This could get very dangerous."

  "Get dangerous? It already is dangerous. And this is my son who's in the middle of it. My son's in danger. What kind of a mother would I be just hanging back and waiting for him in my living room?"

  "A smart mother." Her purse in her hand and clutching the cell phone to her, she gave no indication that she was about to stay put. Chad recognized defeat. "You're not going to be smart, are you?"

  Reaching around him, she opened the door. "I already was. I hired you." She hurried out, then looked over her shoulder. "Now let's go. We're wasting time."

  He had no choice but to take her with him, especially since she was leading the way to the car. "Yes, ma'am."

  She had guts, Chad thought grudgingly. As annoying as her insistence to come along was, he had to admire her courage and determination. In her place, his own mother had fallen apart and continued to do so, according to Megan, until eventually, none of the pieces fit together anymore.

  It looked like Casey Reinholt was a lucky kid. Now all they had to do was get to him in time to let him know that.

  Waiting for her to shut her door, Chad started the car. The number he'd just gotten was located in Newport Beach. They were fifteen minutes away under perfect conditions. With one hand on the wheel, Chad pressed two numbers on his cell keypad as he backed out of her driveway.

  A male voice answered after five rings. Chad had almost given up. "Ben?"

  There was noise in the background. Chad couldn't quite make out what it was as the voice on the other end uttered a preoccupied, "Yeah?"

  "This is Chad." Pressing the accelerator, he just managed to make it through the light before it changed to red. Chad kept an eye on his rearview mirror, watching for familiar dancing red and blue lights. "Are you on something right now?"

  The laugh in response was deep and throaty. "Not yet, but I'm working on it." And then the humor left his voice. "Why, what's up? What do you need?"

  What he needed was a chopper that could get him to the location in a matter of seconds, but he settled for closer proximity. As he recalled, Ben's new bachelor apartment wasn't located far from where the phone call had originated. "Are you anywhere near MacArthur and Pacific Coast Highway right now?"

  There was the slightest pause. "I'm having dinner at a restaurant about a mile or so away. Why?"

  Dinner meant that Ben wasn't alone. Ever since his divorce, Ben had gone at the single life with a vengeance. As a rule, Chad didn't like asking favors, but this wasn't for himself. It was for the agency. And a small boy.

  "I need you to check out a location, and you can get there faster than we can."

  Reciting the address he had taken from the phone tap, Chad went on to give Ben the particulars of the case in succinct sound bites. He could feel the tension escalating in the car with every word he uttered, but that couldn't be helped. Niceties were the first things discarded in kidnapping cases. The only thing that mattered was finding the missing child.

  Chad heard movement in the background, accompanied by muffled voices. And then Ben came on again to say, "I'm on it."

  Veronica waited until he'd closed his cell phone. "Who's Ben?"

  Chad slipped the phone back into his pocket, guiding the wheel with one hand. He barely squeaked through another light.

  "Another member of the firm." To get her mind off what they were doing, he gave her a thumbnail history. "When Cade began the firm, he was on his own. My sister joined him within a couple of months."

  The only thing Veronica knew about the agency, other than its phenomenal background, was that Cade Townsend had started it after his own son had been kidnapped. "Your sister works for ChildFinders?"

  Changing lanes quickly, he threaded the car onto MacArthur. Lights from developments on the hills that bordered the road on each side began to go on as twilight pressed in.

  "Megan's an ex-FBI agent." He didn't add that she had become one partially because of what he and the family had gone through. "My brother, Rusty, joined right out of college. Just before I did." For him, like Megan, it had represented a career change, a chance to do less paperwork and more good.

  She'd been under the impression, when she had walked into the office, that it was a small firm. "So it's a family thing?"

  He'd never actually thought of it that way. "I suppose," he answered.

  The two years his father had robbed him of had taken away more than just time. It had taken away the security that filial feelings ordinarily generated. Even after Chad had been reunited with Megan, Rusty and his mother, it was never the same again. Not for him. The laughter was gone out of his life.

  Oh, he loved his mother, as well as his brother and sister, as much as he was capable of loving anyone. But the betrayal he'd suffered at his fathers hands had made him wary. It had taken away his ability to be in a relationship where all the guards were down.

  No matter how hard he tried, the barriers were always there. Even if, by some miracle, they were lowered however slightly, they would spring back up at the slightest provocation. He couldn't get himself to trust, to relate, ruining any chance he had at a relationship, ending it before it ever got started. He caught himself looking at Veronica.

  He was doomed to a life of distrust and wariness. A legacy he could never forgive his father for.

  Changing the subject, he made an observation. "I was right."

  Veronica turned her head and looked at him. "Right about what?"

  "That the kidnapper is someone you know." He saw her brow furrow. She wasn't following him. He realized that he was skipping around. "The Renoir," he reminded her. "How else would the kidnapper have known about the painting in your hallway?"

  She was about to agree, then stopped as she remembered. "The house was photographed for Architectural Digest the year Robert became chairman of the board at International Security. Anyone thumbing through a copy of the magazine in their doctor's office could have seen it."

  She was right. Chad blew out a breath as he changed lanes again, passing a slow-moving compact. So much for that angle.

  It brought him back to the theory that there was a certain amount of jealousy at work here, aside from simple greed. The kidnapper was enjoying being in control, enjoying tormenting her. Whether for personal satisfaction or to keep her off balance was something Chad had yet to determine. He had a feeling it was probably a combination of both.

  Still, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that it was somehow pers
onal. He let the hunch simmer.

  Veronica tried not to let disappointment get the better of her. "Does this mean we're back to square one?"

  He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile, at the same time surprised that he felt the need to do so. God knows he wasn't very good at it.

  "No, it just means there're more squares than we thought."

  She made no response.

  The intersection of Pacific Coast Highway, more commonly known as PCH to those who were forced to travel it regularly, and MacArthur was busy that time of evening. Eager to make the most of the hours remaining to them, people were hurrying away from work, intent on getting home or stopping somewhere along the way at one of the numerous restaurants for an early drink to unwind from the day's pressures. Spilling out in all directions, the post-six-o'clock traffic made quick travel an impossibility.

  Though he gave no indication of it, Chad waged a war with impatience as he slowed to a crawl less than half a mile from their destination. At this rate, he could have walked faster. He hoped that Ben'd had better luck.

  Finally approaching the address he'd gotten, Chad saw Ben's car parked by the curb. All the other metered spaces were taken. His only hope was the parking lot on the corner.

  Ben waved as Chad passed him. The ex-policeman was standing by a public telephone. Chad sighed quietly to himself. He'd had a hunch.

  "We're here," he told Veronica.

  She looked around as Chad guided the car to the back of the store, whose show window was filled with Oriental rugs. "He called from an Oriental-rug store?"

  If only it was that easy, Chad thought. He'd seen the frown on Ben's face as he'd driven past him. That meant there were no viable suspects in the area. "I don't think so."

  "Then where?" Lowering her head for a better view, she looked across the street. The intersection crisscrossed with three-lane traffic going in four directions, but there appeared to be a residential development in the distance and what looked like an apartment complex.

  Stopping the car in the first available space, Chad quickly climbed out. Veronica was beside him before he rounded the hood.

  "There." Chad indicated the public telephone as they approached it.

  A public telephone. It all felt so impossibly hopeless. Like searching for a toothpick in a pile of straw. "Can we dust for prints?"

  "We will, but it won't do us any good," he warned her. "There's no telling how many people have used that phone."

  Veronica's heart sank.

  Chapter 6

  Veronica focused on the tall, broad-shouldered man who stepped forward to meet them. He had a boyish look about him that seemed in direct contradiction to his eyes, which looked as if they had seen a lot. He nodded a silent greeting to her before turning his attention to Chad.

  "Did you see anyone?" Chad asked.

  Veronica held her breath as she waited for the reply.

  There was a trace of genuine disappointment in his voice as the man shook his head. "Nobody who looked as if they were in a big hurry to get away from the telephone."

  After seven years in the force, both in uniform and as a plain clothesman, Ben Underwood could smell a suspect a hundred feet away before he ever joined ChildFinders. The guilty were at times very adept at acting, but there was always some small thing that gave them away. He had scanned the vicinity when he'd arrived minutes after taking Chad's call.

  He looked from Chad's companion to Chad, a silent question in his eyes.

  "This is my newest client," Chad told him.

  Chad glanced at Veronica, realizing she might take offense at the impersonal way he'd referred to her. But keeping a distance was what kept him sharp. Involvement of any kind tended to dull the brain and take the focus off what was important.

  "Veronica, this is Ben Underwood. He's with the agency," Chad added, though he doubted it was necessary. As he spoke, Chad slowly scanned the immediate vicinity, looking for anything that struck him as out of place. Some minor anomaly that would register in the back of his mind waiting for him to work through. "Ben, this is Veronica Lancaster. Her son was kidnapped from a birthday party this afternoon."

  All their clients were readily identifiable by the anguish in their eyes. This woman at Chad's side was no exception. Ben took her hand warmly in his, giving her the most comforting smile at his disposal. Like Chad, he'd been on the police force before he'd joined the firm. Unlike Chad, his time at ChildFinders had changed him from a man who kept his emotional distance from the work he was engaged in to a man who was moved by every case that came in, and not just those that crossed his desk.

  "I'm very sorry, Mrs. Lancaster, but you couldn't be in better hands. Chad's the best. He's got an inside track on these cases."

  The annoyed look Chad gave Ben was far from veiled. Veronica wondered at the comment and why it annoyed Chad.

  "It's Ms. Lancaster," Chad corrected. "And thanks for coming out so fast."

  Ben shrugged. "Hey, if I'd seen someone, then you could thank me." Ben shook his head as he looked at the telephone. "He's got to be a cool one, Ms. Lancaster, calling you from a pay phone in the open like that."

  "The cool ones are usually the easier ones to catch," Chad pointed out for Veronica's benefit. "They get cocky, and sooner or later, they slip up."

  He looked in the show window of the store. The glass was heavily tinted to keep the rugs that were hung on display from fading, but he could make out two men inside the store. Since they were behind the counter, he figured they had to be sales-clerks. Could be they saw someone making the call. It was worth a shot.

  He turned to Veronica. "You have a photograph of Casey with you?"

  Opening her purse, she took out her wallet and showed him. "I've got five photographs."

  "Good." He nodded toward the store. "Let's go inside and find out if anyone in the shop has seen him recently. Or saw the kidnapper making the call." He glanced at Ben. "A man holding up an electronic distortion device to the mouthpiece of a phone's got to attract some kind of attention."

  "Not necessarily," Ben contradicted. "You forget, this is a beach community. Lot of strange characters hanging around."

  There was that, Chad thought. But maybe they would get lucky.

  Veronica caught hold of his arm. "You think that the kidnapper had Casey with him when he made the call?"

  "No." He doubted anyone was that cocky or that stupid. "But maybe he lives in the area and passed by here on the way to his apartment. If one of those guys in there was bored, they might have gone outside for some air and seen your son in the back of a car." He looked across the street at the apartment building. The number of units was sure to come in at around a hundred, if not more. That made an awful lot of doors to knock on. "First thing tomorrow morning, we need to canvass the area and pass around copies of Casey's photograph." That meant he was going to need help. Rusty was free, but he needed more than just one man. Chad looked at Ben. "You between cases?"

  Ben has been waiting for the question. "Just. Wound up one this morning."

  "I'd appreciate an extra set of hands."

  "Glad to help. I'll check if anyone else is free, too," he promised. He looked at Veronica. "I wish we could have met under better circumstances, Ms. Lancaster."

  "So do I," she replied with feeling.

  As Ben walked away, Veronica entered Ziev & Sons just ahead of Chad. The air inside the small shop felt stagnant and warm, heated, no doubted, by the hot words that were flying back and forth between what Veronica assumed was father and son. The two hardly seemed aware that there was anyone else in the shop until she and Chad were almost at the counter.

  The arguing halted abruptly as the two men turned in unison away from each other and toward them. The frowns creasing both faces faded into smiles that were less than sincere, despite their width.

  "How may we help you?" the younger one asked.

  Chad produced the photograph and laid it on the counter. "Have either one of you seen this boy today?"


  The older of the two men splayed his hands on the counter and leaned down to get a better look. He squinted, then shook his head. "No, I haven't seen him. Have you, Habib?" he asked the other man.

  Habib picked up the photograph and studied it for so long Veronica began to hope again. But then he placed the photograph back on the counter and shook his head. "No. I am sorry."

  Chad knew it was probably pointless to ask, but he had to. "Did either one of you see someone using the telephone that's right outside your store?"

  "No. Is the boy missing?" Habib asked.

  "Yes, he is," Veronica answered. "He's my son. Are you sure you haven't seen him?"

  "Lady, I am sorry. All kids look alike to me. I do not know if I have seen him or not." He looked again at the photo, studying it intently. "But for sure not today."

  Her heart sank a little lower as she tucked the photograph back into her wallet. "Thank you for looking."

  The two men watched in silence as she and Chad walked out.

  Once outside, Veronica drew a long breath, trying not to give in to the despair that hovered around her like a storm cloud. She looked at Chad as the door to the shop closed behind them. "Now what?"

  He took her arm, gently drawing her behind the store, where his vehicle was parked. "Now we get you home. You need some rest." He held the passenger door open for her.

  When she lowered herself into the seat, it felt as if her knees were buckling. "I'm not going to be able to sleep," she protested.

  Getting in on his side, Chad started the car, then waited for a break in traffic before edging out. "Maybe not, but you can give it a try." She began to protest some more, but he cut her off, pointing out the obvious. "You're not going to do your son any good by running yourself down."

  The short tether she had on her nerves snapped again. "If you don't mind, I'd rather not be preached to right now."

  He spared her a look that told her, he wasn't about to get into any sort of verbal confrontation with her. "No preaching. Just common sense."

  Veronica turned away from him and looked out the side window. What was wrong with her? He was only trying to be helpful. Why did she keep biting off his head for saying things she knew were true?