Her Mistletoe Protector(13)

"He hasn't been home?" She stared at him incredulously. "But that's crazy. I know for a fact that Karl was at work the day we met in my office. I had a meeting scheduled with both him and Josie that I canceled."                       
       
           



       

"That was on Wednesday," he said thoughtfully, going back through the timeline. It was Thursday and he found it hard to believe that only twenty-four hours had passed since he'd sat in Rachel's office looking at the threatening notes she'd received. "That means he must have been planning this for a while."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Rachel said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I saw the guy who kidnapped Joey, remember? He was young, in his late twenties or early thirties. I can guarantee he wasn't Karl Errol. Karl is a short, rather nerdy type of guy with glasses and a half-bald head, although I don't think he's hit the age of forty yet."

She was clearly exasperated with him, but he couldn't just let this go "Rachel, it's best if we keep all possibilities open, okay? Errol could have easily hired Morales to kidnap Joey."

"Believe what you want," she said with a disgusted sigh. "I know that Karl isn't capable of doing anything like this."

There was no point in continuing the argument, so he concentrated on backing out of the driveway and heading back toward the city. They still had a good hour and fifteen minutes before they were due at the bank.

However, Rachel wouldn't drop the subject, even though he hadn't said a word. "Obviously you've forgotten how we were shot at outside Margie Caruso's house, which implicates the Mafia, not one of my employees."

He hadn't forgotten, but that incident had been more of a warning rather than an attempt to kill them. "Maybe we should head back over there, then?" he asked. "We have time."

"Great idea," she agreed enthusiastically.

He stifled a sigh and headed toward the freeway. They'd driven about twenty minutes when Rachel's cell phone beeped. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel because so far the only person who'd texted Rachel since this nightmare began was the kidnapper.

"He wants to know if I have the money yet," Rachel said, glancing up nervously. "What should I tell him?"

"Tell him that we'll have the money by one o'clock this afternoon. That gives us a little bit of a buffer since we're hoping to have this settled by noon."

"I don't know if that's a good idea," she protested. "I don't want to make him angry."

Nick understood her concern, but he wanted some time to react to the kidnapper's exchange plan. Since Logan was out of the country, he'd had no choice but to call his friend and fellow cop, Jonah Stewart, for assistance. Jonah lived with his wife, Mallory, in Milwaukee, but once he'd heard the story, Jonah had readily agreed to drive up to Chicago. "If this guy understands anything about banks, he'll understand the time frame is more than reasonable."

Rachel swallowed hard and sent the message explaining they'd have the money by one o'clock in the afternoon.

There was a tense silence as she waited for the kidnapper's response. When her phone beeped again, she picked it up with shaking fingers.

"Well?" he asked. "What was his response?"

Rachel lifted her tormented gaze to his, her lower lip quivering with fear. "He said to text him the minute we get the money and not a second later. He also said he'd hurt Joey and keep on hurting him for every minute we're late."





SEVEN

Rachel shivered, despite the bright sunlight streaming in through the windshield keeping the interior of the car toasty warm. She couldn't bear the thought of the kidnapper hurting her son. She didn't even want to think about what Joey may have already suffered.

She forced her frozen fingers to text back. I promise I'll call as soon as I have the cash. Please don't harm my son.

"Rachel, try not to panic. I'm sure he's bluffing," Nick murmured, reaching over to squeeze her hand.

"I'm not willing to take that chance," she snapped.

Nick didn't seem a bit fazed by her anger. "Remember, we've just purchased a new phone. There's no way for him to track us from now on. And it could be that he isn't even aware of that fact, yet."                       
       
           



       

Suddenly, the idea of getting a new phone didn't seem like such a good one. Her heart lodged in her throat and she gripped his hand tightly. "What if he gets mad about the switch and hurts Joey?"

"Don't worry, Rachel," Nick said in a soothing tone. "The kidnapper has come too far to turn back now. He wants your money, remember?"

Nick's theory wasn't at all reassuring. Yes, the kidnapper wanted her money, but it could be that he also had a sadistic streak and took some kind of perverse pleasure from hurting young children, too. She was tempted to beg Nick to return to the truck stop, so she could grab her old phone out of the garbage.

But he was already heading down the highway toward Margie Caruso's house, so she bit her tongue and tried to relax. At least for now, the kidnapper couldn't track their movements, which was a good thing. She hoped and prayed that they'd find Joey there.

This time, Nick didn't pull up in front of the house, but drove around the block, parking on the opposite side of the house. It was broad daylight, so it wasn't exactly easy to hide from curious eyes.

"Remember, I'm the one who's going to do the talking here," she reminded Nick as they slid out of the car.

He grimaced and nodded, keeping a sharp eye out as they walked down the street. Margie Caruso's house was the third one in from the corner, so it didn't take long to get there.

She could hear the faint hint of Christmas music coming from one of the houses, and she couldn't help quickening her pace, eager to see if Margie was home. Nick hung back as she walked up the sidewalk and rang the doorbell.

The seconds passed with agonizing slowness, but soon the door opened, revealing a well-dressed and nicely groomed woman who didn't look anything close to her fifty-some years. But the moment Margie saw Rachel standing there, she frowned. "No soliciting," she said abruptly.

"Wait! My name is Rachel Caruso. I'm not selling anything, I just want to talk to you for a minute."

Margie paused in the act of closing the door, her gaze raking over Rachel from head to toe. "You're Anthony's wife?" she asked.

Hiding a wince, she nodded. She tried to think of a way to forge a bond with the woman. "We divorced a long time ago, but I was hoping you wouldn't mind talking to me for a few minutes."

The former Mrs. Frankie Caruso pursed her lips for a moment. "Who's he?" she asked, gesturing toward Nick.

"This is Nick, a good friend of mine." She twisted her hands together, hoping Margie wouldn't guess that he was a cop and refuse to see them. Rachel didn't exactly want to have this conversation outside. Not that she was even sure what she was going to say. The main reason they'd come to Margie's house was to make sure Joey wasn't being held here.

"I guess you'd better come in, then," Margie said, opening the screen door for them.

Nick held the door as she entered the house first. She glanced around curiously and was a little disheartened to find nothing unusual. There were some holiday decorations, including a small fake tabletop-size tree. Would Margie invite her in if she was hiding her son here? Somehow she doubted it. Yet she firmly believed Margie Caruso would be a link to her son. "You have a very nice home," she murmured as she stepped into the living room.

Margie let out a bark of laughter. "Yep. Bought and paid for by Frankie," she bragged. "Do you want something to drink? I have coffee and soft drinks."

"No thanks. I really hope you don't mind us just dropping in like this," she said, before Nick could respond. "It's just I need to find Frankie and I was hoping you'd know where he was."

"Have a seat," Margie said, waving at them as she dropped into a recliner. "What do you want with Frankie?"

Rachel's mouth went dry and she wished she'd agreed to take something to drink. "It's nothing major, I just need to ask him a few questions."

"Ms. Caruso, do you mind if I use your bathroom?" Nick asked, interrupting them.

"No problem, it's down the hall to your right," Margie said, waving in the general direction.                       
       
           



       

Rachel figured Nick was trying to give them some time alone, most likely thinking that Margie might open up more if he wasn't sitting there. She stared down at her hands for a minute trying to figure out a way to get Margie to speak openly about Frankie. "Last I heard, Frankie was in Phoenix," she said in a low voice. "I should tell you that I've received some threatening letters and phone calls." She glanced up, trying to assess Margie's reaction. "I guess I couldn't help wondering if your ex might be involved."