Hostage Negotiation Page 6

  “I’m...fine.” There. That sounded convincing and normal, didn’t it?

  “Good, I’m so glad. Is there...is there something that I can do for you?”

  “Yes, actually. There is.” She told the agent what she wanted. Sandy’s startled exclamation had Kaylee wincing and pulling the phone away from her ear. “Yes, yes, I’m sure. And this needs to be between you and me. My parents can’t hear about this. I’m...going to tell them I’m staying with a friend. That I need some space. They won’t worry about me if they think I’m with someone.”

  “I don’t like it,” Sandy said. “But if you’re going to do this, then there’s something I absolutely insist on.”

  After several minutes of arguing and negotiating, Kaylee gave up the fight and agreed to Sandy’s stipulations. Once the arrangements were made, she hung up and called a number she didn’t have to dial information to request. She’d memorized it, a cell phone number given to her in the hospital.

  By Zack.

  Her pulse sped up at the thought of hearing his voice again, but not because he was handsome or was exactly the type of man she would have been attracted to in her former life. She didn’t care about handsome anymore, not after...not after what she’d been through. She doubted she’d ever care again about things like that. No, her pulse thrummed because of how he made her feel—safe, secure and as if she could do anything, like fight the devil and win.

  The line clicked. “Detective Larson, may I help you?”

  Not the voice she’d been hoping to hear.

  “I’m sorry.” She tried to hide her disappointment. “I must have called the wrong number. I’m trying to reach Chief Scott.”

  A pause, then “Miss Brighton? Is that you?”

  Caught. “Yes. Could you please give me Chief Scott’s number? I thought I was calling his cell but obviously I’ve called yours instead. I need to talk to him.”

  “You called the right number. He left me his phone in case someone needed to get in touch with him in an emergency. There is no cell service where he is right now. His phone was sitting on my desk and rang, so I picked it up.”

  “Oh. Well, I don’t know that I’d call this an emergency, but it’s very important. I’d appreciate it if you would tell him that I need to talk to him and—”

  “Miss Brighton, I’m sorry, but unless it’s urgent I really can’t justify interrupting the work that Zack’s doing on the Ghost of Mystic Glades case just to tell him to—”

  “You’re calling the man who abducted me a ghost? Why? He’s the devil, not a ghost. I didn’t imagine what he did to me. He—”

  “Miss Brighton, hold on. I’m really, really sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It came out before I could stop it.” He let out a deep sigh. “Believe me, no one is trying to belittle your experience by assigning a cutesy name to the killer. It’s just that there’s a legend in the Glades...well, it doesn’t matter. What I was trying to say is that I’d prefer to take care of whatever you’re calling about rather than drive out to find Chief Scott. I’m part of the same task force that he’s on trying to bring the man to justice who hurt you. That is why you called, right? To tell me something about the case?”

  She pressed her hand against her chest, embarrassed at her outburst. “Detective, forgive me. I shouldn’t have jumped all over you like that. I get...flustered, and emotional these days.”

  “You absolutely don’t owe me an apology. Now, how can I help you?”

  She curled her hand around the phone. “I appreciate your offer, but it’s Zack that I need to speak to.”

  Silence met her request, and she realized her blunder—calling Chief Scott by his first name. Her face grew heated, but there was no backpedaling now. She had no control over what crazy thoughts might be running through the detective’s head. And she didn’t care about all the reasons her therapist gave her for what she called her fixation on the man who’d saved her. To her, Chief Scott would always be Zack. And Zack was the only person she felt comfortable enough to talk to about what had happened.

  “If you’ll leave your message with me, I promise that I’ll give it to him the minute I go home to Mystic Glades this evening. He’ll have to stop the search at nightfall.”

  There was a slight intake of breath on the line, and she realized he’d said more than he’d intended. Her pulse hammered in her veins as dreaded images pounded through her mind like a battering ram, making her temples throb.

  “He’s...he’s out there? In the swamp? Looking for her?”

  A deep sigh sounded. “Yes. Zack is searching for both of them, Mary Watkins and Sue Ellen Fullerton. Like I said, if you’ll just give me the message, I promise I’ll tell him tonight—”

  “No. That will be too late. You need to tell him now.”

  Another sigh, this one of resignation. “All right. Give me your message.”

  “You’ll take it to him right now? You won’t wait until later? Promise?”

  “I promise.” His voice sounded weary, but it also sounded honest. She believed him.

  “Okay. Please tell him that I remember... I remember... Things are coming back. I need to talk to him. I...” She drew a shaky breath. “I think I can help him find Mary now.”

  “Miss Brighton...” His voice took on an edge of excitement and impatience. “Are you saying that you can tell us the location where you were held?”

  “Not exactly. But I feel... I know...that if I go out there, where Zack found me, the rest will follow. The details will come. I want to help find Mary. And the only way that I can do that is to go to the swamp and see if being there will make the pieces of my memory come together and make sense.”

  Disappointment was heavy in his sigh and the long moment of silence that followed. Maybe she should have said she definitely knew where to find Mary instead of being honest. But she really did believe the fragments of memories that were barraging her would form a complete picture if she could just get back to the swamp. But she couldn’t do it alone. She needed someone with her, someone she could trust to keep her safe, and grounded. She needed Zack.

  “Detective—”

  “I appreciate that you want to help. I really do. But unless you know the exact location, unless you’re positive of where Mary is, I think that going against your therapist’s advice is too risky. I remember she was adamant that the only safe way for you to recover the chunks of your missing memories is in a safe, controlled environment—specifically, your therapist’s office. Coming here isn’t recommended and is why you left in the first place. I couldn’t live with myself if something...bad...happened to you because we went against your doctor’s orders. Especially if we have a real chance of you remembering everything, but by coming here too soon, you go backward and forget it all. Can you understand my hesitancy?”

  She curled her hands around the phone in frustration. She was so tired of other people telling her what to do, of thinking they knew what was best for her.

  “Let’s cut to the chase, Detective.” Frustration made her voice harsher than she’d intended. She cleared her throat and tried to keep her voice even. “I’ve been keeping up with the investigation through the news channels, and it’s clear that you have no leads. Isn’t that right?”

  “I wouldn’t say we have no leads,” he hedged.

  “I think I deserve the truth. Do you have any leads or not?”

  Another long silence, then “No. We don’t.”

  “Then I suggest that you get in touch with Zack right away. Tell him that I’m ready to face the devil. I’m flying to Naples Municipal Airport this morning. And I want Zack to pick me up, so he can take me to the Everglades to the exact spot where he...where he found me.”

  “You’re flying in from Miami? I didn’t think they even had flights from there to here. It’s only a few hours’ drive.”

  “
A friend hired a private plane for me.”

  What she didn’t tell him was that Sandy had insisted on the rather extravagant gesture. The travel agent had astutely realized that Kaylee dreaded driving the same trek she’d driven the last time she’d gone to Naples, a trip that had ended with her in a box in the ground. Just getting on the plane was going to be difficult. The only way she felt she could face it was knowing that Zack would be there on the other side. Zack would keep her safe.

  “Your mind’s already made up. You’re coming out here no matter what, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  When he didn’t immediately agree to her request, she played the card she’d held back just in case. She already hated herself for what she was about to say, but she really was desperate.

  “Detective, if you won’t help me, if you won’t get Zack to pick me up at the airport and then take me out to the swamp to look for Mary, I’m afraid I’ll have to take my plight to the press. And I’m pretty sure they won’t report favorably about the Collier County Sheriff’s Office once they hear that you refused to let the only witness help you find Mary, before it’s too late.”

  His voice was clipped and angry when he replied. “What time should I tell Zack to pick you up?”

  Chapter Seven

  Zack cursed beneath his breath as he strode through the large glass doors into Naples Municipal Airport. People gave him curious looks as he passed them, no doubt because of his muddy shoes and dirt-smeared clothes. The filthy hair probably didn’t help either. He’d fallen more than a few times in the marsh today, and it seemed like half the swamp had ended up in his hair or his mouth at one point or another. If he didn’t catch some kind of disease by the time this was over it would be a miracle. But it wasn’t the fear of catching a disease that had him so aggravated. It was the fact that he’d had to stop searching for the missing women and waste precious daylight to pick up Kaylee Brighton at the airport.

  A pang of guilt knocked the edge off his temper. She was, after all, a victim. She’d gone through unbelievable horrors at the hands of the same man that he was trying to catch. And if it wasn’t for her bravery in risking everything to get away from her captor, Zack and the others wouldn’t even know to look for Mary or Sue Ellen. But still, she was safe and sound with her wealthy parents in Miami. Or should have been. She had no business coming back, not this soon.

  He remembered the therapist that the victims’ advocate group had brought in, telling them all how fragile she was. Pushing Kaylee too fast, too soon, could destroy not only the memories they hoped to use to help them in the case, but her, as well. He hadn’t expected her to contact them for at least a few more months. And he’d desperately hoped he’d have already found Mary and Sue Ellen alive and well long before then, and she wouldn’t need to come back.

  He didn’t see how anything good could come from taking him away from the search, or involving Kaylee. Which was why he was going to stop her, turn her around and tell her to get back on that private jet of hers and return to Miami.

  Private jet. He shook his head. Kaylee Brighton had all the advantages in life—or at least, she had, before her harrowing experience. She had access to the best doctors that money could buy. Her responsibility right now was to use those advantages to help her heal. She shouldn’t be flying out here on a whim and interfering with his efforts to find those missing women. And he was going to tell her exactly that when he saw her.

  But then he saw her.

  Fifty feet away, looking lost, frightened, her face incredibly pale in contrast to her shoulder-length dark hair as she headed toward him, pulling a rolling suitcase. Her purse was clutched against her flat belly, her wide eyes darting all around as if she was afraid one of the people in the crowd might grab her and drag her off somewhere to torture her.

  Zack’s shoulders slumped. He stopped where he was, berating himself for his earlier unkind thoughts. This wasn’t some spoiled little rich girl wanting to be the center of attention. And she wasn’t here to purposely interfere with his search. No one who looked that scared, that...bleak, would come here except for one reason—to help them with the investigation, just as Cole had told Zack when Cole had driven out to the search site an hour earlier.

  Now he wished he’d taken a few minutes to change his clothes and wash the filth of the marsh off his body before driving to the airport. He didn’t want to frighten her even more, or bring back horrific memories of what had happened to her because of his knee-jerk reaction to her demanding that he pick her up.

  He eyed the door to the men’s room not too far away, wondering if he could quickly clean himself up enough to make a difference. But it was too late. She’d already spotted him. And the look of intense relief that washed over her delicate features had him feeling guilty all over again for even considering making her wait while he washed.

  Hurrying forward, he schooled his expression into one of patience instead of the impatient, angry expression he knew he must have worn before. They stopped a few feet from each other, the crowd parting like rapids around a boulder as he debated whether or not to shake her hand. He didn’t want to frighten her. The decision was taken from him when she reached out, not with one hand, but both hands, and wrapped them around his waist.

  “Thank God you came.” Her voice sounded ragged. “Thank you.”

  His shock turned to guilt again as he gently put his arms around her, holding her against his chest. Her whole body was shaking. And it was only then that he realized how traumatic it must have been for her to take the flight out here and brave the crowds of strangers in the airport.

  “Come on.” He urged her toward the wall and away from the steady stream of people. “Do you have more luggage we need to pick up?”

  “N...no. Just this.” She pulled away from him, gave him a watery smile and motioned toward her carry-on. “I’m not even sure what I brought. I just tossed things in until it was full and left.”

  “May I?” He moved his hand toward the suitcase handle but waited for her permission. She seemed so fragile, like a doe that might bolt if he made any sudden moves.

  “Um, sure. Okay. Thank you.” Her eyes flitted past him, taking in their surroundings.

  “Kaylee?”

  “Yes?” She sounded distracted as she watched the people walk past.

  “You can let go of the handle now.”

  She looked down at her hand on her suitcase then let go. “I’m...I’m sorry.” She squared her shoulders before looking up at him again. Some of the fear had left her eyes, and in its place was a look he hadn’t seen in her before...determination. “I really am sorry. About interfering with your search. I promise I wouldn’t have done so if I could have...if I could...do this by myself.” She motioned to the crowd moving past them. “I’m still...uneasy...around strangers.” She fisted her hands at her sides. “I just... I want to help. I know I can help. But I’m not strong enough yet to do it on my own. If you’re with me, I know I can do this, help you find Mary.”

  As she stared up at him with such complete trust and faith, he felt something crack open inside, letting her in where he’d never let anyone else in since losing Jo Lynne all those years ago.

  And that scared the hell out of him.

  He had a job to do, an incredibly important one. There were lives at stake. He couldn’t let this beautiful, fragile woman distract him from what needed to be done. And somehow he had to break this...bond...or whatever it was, that had struck up between them since the moment he’d held her broken body on that road and felt her hand clutch his.

  “We need to go.” Steeling himself against the hurt look that flickered across her face, he turned toward the exit, pulling her suitcase behind him. “It’s going to rain again soon. We need to hurry or we’ll get soaked.”

  “There’s been a lot of rain around here from what I’ve seen on the news.” She
was slightly out of breath, probably from keeping pace with his much longer legs.

  He slowed down to match her shorter stride. “It’s wreaked havoc on our search, I can tell you that.”

  They exited through automatic sliding glass doors and he gestured toward his dark blue four-by-four pickup truck parked at the curb about thirty feet to the right with Collier County Deputy Holder standing outside it, arguing with a TSA agent. From the relieved look on Holder’s face when he saw Zack, he was obviously losing the argument.

  “Here he is right now,” Holder told the TSA guard. “This is Chief Zack Scott.”

  Zack smiled at the agent and shook his hand, acutely aware that Kaylee had sucked in a breath and stopped slightly behind him. She probably hadn’t expected him to bring another cop with him. But there was nothing he could do about that now. He’d fully expected it would only take a few minutes to convince her to hop back on her plane and go home. And since Deputy Holder had been paired up with him today to conduct the search of the grid that they’d been assigned, they’d driven to the airport together, rather than leave Holder by himself. They were using the buddy system while searching, acutely aware that they were looking for an extremely dangerous killer, and not wanting any officers isolated and alone, vulnerable to an ambush.

  After soothing the ruffled feathers of the TSA agent and promising not to park in front of the airport like that again, even with a deputy in the car, Zack gestured toward the rear door of the king cab. “Mind sitting back there, Holder? Miss Brighton will sit up front with me.”

  “No problem.”

  Holder nodded at Kaylee when Zack introduced them. As the deputy got into the backseat and took the suitcase, he gave Zack a questioning look. All Zack could do was shrug. How could he explain to the other man why he’d given in and let Kaylee come along with them when he didn’t understand it himself?

  He held open the front passenger door, expecting Kaylee to step up inside. But instead, she stood frozen on the sidewalk, her face as pale as ever. Immediately on alert, Zack turned around, scanning the people and vehicles near them. But he didn’t see anything alarming—except for the TSA agent staring at them, crossing his arms and waiting for the truck to get moving.