No One Heard Her Scream

down as if he knew everything would be okay. Seeing him there, a profound serenity washed through Becca. He looked so beautiful in the afternoon light. So still . . . and rock-solid.

She wanted to reach for his hand—and whisper his name—but nothing would come.

CHAPTER15

Downtown San Antonio

'What? Say again.' Draper squinted as he turned on the lamp, the cell phone to his ear. He yanked the covers off him and sat up in bed. His downtown hotel room came into focus, but his mind hadn't fully grasped the situation.

'That surveillance we had on Rebecca Montgomery? Our men are on the move. I just got the call,' the man said. 'It happened too fast. Our guys weren't in a position to stop it.'

He recognized the voice of Paul Murphy, the SAPD member of his team.

'What happened? Start from the beginning.' Draper stumbled to the bathroom to take a leak.

'We staked out her place, down on the river. She wasn't home, so we waited.' Murphy sighed into the phone, catching his breath. 'Becca got home around...'

He heard Murphy flip through papers, looking for details that didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. 'A quarter to ten. We had a two-man team, one in front, the other in back. For whatever reason, Becca crawled out her fire escape window. I still don't understand why.'

'In the absence of a three-alarm fire in the building, do you think she saw our guys? Maybe she tried to ditch 'em by going out the fire escape,' Draper theorized as he shook himself and flushed. After performing a one-handed wash maneuver, he looked at himself in the mirror and ran his free hand through his graying hair, what was left of it. An ugly skinny bastard stared back, same as always.

'No, I don't think so. Our guys said her leaving had something to do with flowers, sir. But it doesn't make any sense to me.'

'I hear ya, son. Women don't exactly come with logical instructions and a free set of kitchen knives. Making sense is not in their playbook. What else?'

'Like I said, she was picking . . . flowers. But some guy grabbed her from behind. He pulled her into an alley near her condo.' Murphy's anxiety for his fellow officer gave an edge to his voice. The man was still short of breath. 'I had a cop in plain clothes near a footbridge across the river, looking into the back of her place. By the time this all went down, he radioed for help from his partner on the street level in front, but they lost her.'

Murphy cursed under his breath. 'Damn it. This was supposed to be a babe-sitting job. I don't know what happened.'

'Stay focused. Where is she now?'

'That's just it. We're not one hundred percent sure. The cop out front had seen some movers who'd been there for an hour or so before all this happened. No company name on the outside of their truck. But he got pulled off to search for Becca. Him and his partner made it inside her place through the open window off the fire escape, but she wasn't there. Her gun, cell phone, and keys were on a kitchen counter.'

Murphy had fucked up a simple surveillance operation. But things could have been far worse. If the timing had been off even a fraction, the sons of bitches who kidnapped Rebecca might have panicked and made it a hostage situation in downtown San Antonio. A shoot-out, for cryin' out loud.

Yet another potential outcome plagued him on a personal level. If these alleged kidnappers were linked to Cavanaugh, as he suspected, his operation would have been blown. And most probably, Galvan's life would have been forfeited. Draper felt like an asshole for thinking only of his case, but he had invested too much time to have it wiped out by some local wannabe fed. Hell, Galvan was already in the hot seat, hanging with Cavanaugh. Draper didn't need another complication.

He blocked the thought from his head and listened to Murphy give his report.

'By the time my team got done searching, they remembered the movers and the small truck and hauled ass to the street level again. They were almost too late. The truck had already pulled from the curb. They only had enough time to scramble to their car and follow.'

'Movers in the middle of the night? Does that make sense to you, Murphy? 'Cause if it does, you can tear up your federal employment application.'

'No, sir. It didn't. That's why my guys are tailing the truck, as we speak. What now?'

'Like my daddy always used to say, get on her and stay on her, son. This might be our only chance to nail that rat bastard Cavanaugh. Let's get more cars tailing the truck so we don't unzip our fly and let 'em know we're there. And gather up the rest of our team. I got a feeling this is it. We won't get another chance.'

'But if they have Becca, we can pull the truck over right now. We've got probable cause to do the search, sir.'

'There's a big picture, Murphy. You're thinking too small. Just do as I say.' Squirming out of his pajama bottoms with cell phone in hand, Draper bellowed, 'And get over here to pick me up. I'll be in front of the hotel in five.'

It took a while for the cop to respond, but once he did, Draper heard the dissent in his voice. The man didn't agree with his order.

'Already on my way, sir. Make it three.'

Draper ended the call, his mind firing on all cylinders. In a rush, he ransacked his room for clothes, throwing on whatever he found.

He made a big leap in logic to assume Cavanaugh had ordered the kidnapping of a local cop, but it made sense given Diego's earlier warning. Gutsy and stubborn Rebecca Montgomery had wanted in on his case. Now she was . . . the hard way. He hoped she would live to appreciate the irony.

And for Diego's part in all this. His simple favor on a hunch had turned out to be anything but simple. His prized informant had to know more than he let on at the bank. Diego's sudden concern for a cop he only just met was too much coincidence.

But no matter how it happened, Draper didn't care. It all might end tonight with something more than the foothill of circumstantial evidence Diego had gathered so far. He was so close, he tasted it. Cavanaugh had taken a huge risk. No doubt, the man had something special in mind for Rebecca. And with an ego the size of Texas, the son of a bitch would be front and center when it all went down. Draper knew it.

Dressed and armed, he raced from his room with his blood hot from the thrill of the hunt. Cavanaugh was going down, no matter what he had to do to make it happen.

Nearly Midnight

A smothering stench assaulted Becca's nose. Numb with cold, she lay on a hard surface, her shoulder blades and a hipbone ached from the clumsy position of her body. And she couldn't move, not even to open her eyes. Despite the foul air, she focused on her breathing. And she forced her brain to work at recognizing the staggering smell. It gave her something to concentrate on besides the pain. Dank mold mixed with the heavy musk of body odor, but the rank fumes of a broken sewer overpowered the melange.

Little by little, she pierced the veil of fog in her mind. Minutes seemed like hours, but eventually, Becca became aware of her body convulsing. Tremors ripped through her muscles unchecked. Drugs still affected her system, and the chill off the floor didn't help.

With great effort, she pried her eyes open. At least, she thought they were. Everything looked dark. No shapes. No light. Only inky black. Becca had no way of knowing where she was or if she was truly awake. She tried to swallow, but her mouth felt like cotton. Her tongue was thick and swollen.

As the haze lifted, the room took shape. An eddy in gray surged with shadows. And a stabbing light centered above her head. She tried to raise a hand to shield her eyes, but her arm flopped to her side, limp. Her wrist banged against something solid, a sharp crack to her bone.

'Arrgh . . . mmm.' She heard the sound, unsure it came from her.

Becca's eyes burned, stinging with tears. She forced them open. A blinding white light filled the space. It hurt her eyes, like staring into a scorching desert sun. Unrelenting and without mercy. That's when she heard the echo of footsteps. The sound skittered off walls and came at her from all sides. A slow terror welled inside, roiling from the pit of her stomach. Still, she couldn't focus. Even as her heart thrashed against her ribs, she fought to wake up. To move. To run. But nothing.

'You awake, darlin'.' A man's voice, low and gritty.