Deadly Game (Fortress Security #5)(44)

“You know these people?”

“We’ve tangled with them before. They hate Fortress, sir.”

“I see. Did you run into them in your military days?”

“Yes, sir. They’re not fond of the SEALs, either.”

Martin chuckled. “I can imagine.”

Brent hesitated a moment, then said, “Sir, this situation is becoming more complicated. I have a personal connection with this mission.”

“Explain.”

“A man named Jay Maxwell and his wife, Heather, were murdered two nights ago here in Nashville. Heather was the sister of the woman I’m dating.” Brent didn’t know how else to explain the relationship, despite the fact he hadn’t managed to take Rowan on even one date. So far. He intended to change that as soon as people stopped tracking, chasing, or shooting at them. He looked forward to learning about the woman behind the sunny smile and beautiful eyes. “Heather and Jay’s six-year-old daughter has been kidnapped and now it appears the same people are after Rowan.”

“Why?”

“Heather left a flash drive in Rowan’s safe keeping. One of my operatives decoded the file which contains two lists. One is a list of militia leaders with their own agenda.”

“And the other list?”

“International terrorists. We’ve encountered a few of them, Mr. President.”

“How dangerous are these men, Brent?”

“I’d kill them on sight, sir.”

“What’s the connection between the militia groups and the international terrorists?”

“Not sure yet. We’re working on that.”

“And the connection between the Maxwells and the cartel?”

“What else? Drugs. All the big ones plus Ketamine.”

A pause, then, “Hold on, Brent.” A moment later, the president returned. “I have to go. Keep me informed of any further developments or new intel.”

“Yes, sir.”

Brent slid his phone deep into his pocket as a light tap sounded on the door.

Rowan poked her head inside. “Okay to come in? I need my laptop to place orders.”

“Of course. Thanks for allowing me to use your office.” He crossed to stand in front of her. “You look tired, babe.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Comes from not sleeping much for two nights.” Her gaze dimmed. “I don’t know how Heather did this. She told me of nights when my niece couldn’t sleep because she was sick. I usually volunteered to spend a night to let Heather sleep.”

“How did that go over?”

“About like you’d expect. Jay wouldn’t hear of it. He said that was Heather’s job.”

Brent scowled. “He never helped out, did he?”

A sad laugh escaped. “Not hardly. Jay made Heather move out of the master suite so she was closer to Alexa. He didn’t want to be bothered with his own daughter crying in the night or waking up with a nightmare. Guess he figured since Heather didn’t work, she could handle being awake all night and all day. How will I handle nights like these with Alexa? I have to work, Brent.”

“You’ll figure it out one day at a time, baby. Remember, you aren’t alone. I want to help.”

Rowan’s cell phone signaled an incoming call. She checked the screen. Her face lost all trace of color.

“Rowan? What’s wrong?”

She opened her mouth to respond, couldn’t.

Brent clasped her upper arms. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”

Instead of answering, Rowan turned the phone so he could see the name on the screen. Heather.





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN


Rowan’s body trembled as she held up the phone for Brent to see. Someone was calling her with Heather’s phone. The kidnappers? That was the only thing that made sense. Heather had called her with her cell phone right before she was shot. In the craziness following Heather’s death, Rowan hadn’t asked if Detective Taylor had found her sister’s phone. The homicide detective didn’t need to use Heather’s phone to contact Rowan.

Her gaze locked with Brent’s. “What do I do?”

“Answer the phone, but put it on speaker.” He ushered her to the seat behind her desk. Good thing, too. Rowan was pretty sure her knees were ready to give way.

Following Brent’s instructions, she tapped the speaker button. “Rowan Scott. Who is this?”

“Doesn’t matter who’s speaking. What matters is that I have your niece. If you want to see her again, you’ll do exactly as I say.”

Brent motioned for her to keep talking as he grabbed his phone and texted someone. Probably Zane or one of the other tech people at Fortress. “How do I know you have my niece? I want proof that she’s alive or I’m hanging up and calling the cops.”

An aggravated growl came through the phone’s speaker. “Hold on,” the man snapped. There was some fumbling, then footsteps indicated the caller was on the move.

At the growing sound of a child crying, Rowan clamped a hand over her mouth. Tears burned her eyes. Alexa. Rowan would recognize her cry anywhere.

“Talk to the kid. Can’t guarantee she’ll say anything,” the man grumbled. “All she does is cry.”

Tears slid down Rowan’s cheeks. “Alexa?”