Meghan chewed at her lip as the minutes ticked by. So far no gunfire. A good sign, she hoped.
She hated that her view of the street and the house was limited to the carport and back alley. Her foot tapped against the floorboards. Anxious energy zinged along her nerve endings, making sitting inside the stifling cruiser unbearable. She caught sight of Officer Cribs at the corner. He’d stopped to talk to a woman who’d come out of her house. No doubt telling her to go back inside where it was safe.
She should have known Ryan wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone. He was such a caring man underneath the gruff exterior. She hoped nothing happened to him.
Worry churned in her tummy. She cracked open the window, needing some fresh air.
A vehicle turned down the back alley and stopped beside the carport. She recognized the van. Her pulse skidded out of control. It was the same van with masked gunmen that had followed her off the freeway and had opened fire on her and Ryan. Panic seized her in a tight grip.
Two big, brawny men rushed out of the side doors each carrying an infant carrier with a squalling baby. The sound pierced her heart.
They put the babies inside a big white side-panel van, with no plates. Her blood turned to ice.
Another man left the house. He looked vaguely familiar but it was the toddler in his arms that stole her breath. Her stomach dropped. Georgina! Her wispy blond curls were matted, her pj’s dirty.
They were escaping with the children.
Cribs had taken the cruiser’s keys with him. She had no way of stopping the men from taking off with Georgina and the babies.
The horn!
She laid on the car horn with all her might.
The van’s engine roared toward her.
Cribs ran down the sidewalk toward the cruiser.
She’d gained his attention, but unfortunately, she’d given away her presence to the bad guys in the van. The van screeched to a halt in the street beside the cruiser. The side-panel door on the van slid back and one of the men jumped out. Fear clogged her throat. The man tried the car door handle. The lock held. She drew back, thankful she’d heeded Ryan’s request and stayed locked safely in the car.
Cribs drew his weapon. Through the crack in the window Meghan heard him yell, “Stop. Police.”
Ignoring Cribs, her attacker pulled away his elbow then smashed it into the window. Meghan screamed and dove sideways to avoid flying glass.
The lock popped. The door opened. Terrorized, Meghan grabbed at the driver’s door handle as a beefy arm snagged her around the waist and yanked her roughly out of the car. She let loose a terror-filled scream. He dragged her to the van. She kicked and yelled to no avail.
Cribs fired a shot. The sound echoed in Meghan’s brain, sending her already galloping pulse into hyperdrive. Her insides felt like any second she might explode. Her attacker didn’t hesitate. He threw her into the van like a sack of potatoes between the space dividing the front buckets and the middle seat bench. She landed on the floor with a thunk. Pain exploded in her hip where her cell phone dug into her flesh from inside the pocket of her capris. The man jumped in the van after her.
“Halt! Police!” Cribs cried again.
The door slid closed with a slam as the van shot forward. More gunfire. Bullets pinged off the van’s back doors.
Shaking, Meghan pulled herself upright between the seats, forcing her terrified mind to take stock of the situation. There were three men in the vehicle-the driver, a man in the passenger seat and another crouched on the floor between the front captain seats.
Her frantic gaze sought Georgina. The little girl sat in the far backseat strapped in with a seat belt across her small body between two red-faced infants in tattered car seats. The babies wailed and Georgina screeched as she plucked at the buckle trying to remove the seat belt.
Meghan climbed over the bench seat to attend to the children. She squatted as best she could on the floor between the back of the bench seat and the babies.
“Shh,” she cooed, trying to calm Georgina and the two crying babes. Her heart swelled with love and fear.
One of the men in the front threw a glance toward her. “Why’d we grab her?”
“Roman will be pleased. He’ll take great pleasure in killing her himself,” the driver replied with an evil smile. “It’ll make up for failing to take her out the first time we tried.”
Meghan swallowed back the wild rise of terror as horrible thoughts invaded her mind and tried to rob her of her any coherent thoughts. Despair welled up to choke her as the van continued on unimpeded. Sirens wailed in the distance. The van made lots of turns, obviously making an effort to lose themselves in the sea of New York City traffic.
She’d never see Ryan again. He would feel responsible for her capture. He was the kind of man who took ownership even when it wasn’t his to take. He was such a good man, full of integrity and honor. Unlike his father.
She pushed the uncharitable thought aside. She needed to stay focused on what was happening and how to get out of this while protecting the babies.
She had to find a way to let Ryan know where she was, give him a clue how to find her. Because she trusted he’d never give up looking for her and Georgina.
The van rounded a turn. She fell on her backside. Her throbbing hip reminded her that she had her phone.
Carefully, she inched the phone out of her pocket with one hand while comforting Georgina with the other. Keeping the phone low and out of sight, she punched in 9-1-1.
She hoped it connected but couldn’t dare chance bringing the phone to her ear to find out. Her only hope was to leave the line open anyway and pray for the best.
TEN
“Clear.”
“Clear.”
The word reverberated through the empty dwelling as several officers running point called out from various positions inside the house. The criminals had escaped out the back before the police had gotten into position.
Frustration bit a chunk out of Ryan’s nerves. How was he going to tell Meghan they’d hit another dead end? Dread at how she’d take the news chewed at his gut.
A commotion at the front door drew his attention as he struggled to retrieve the phone. Cribs, looking harried and panicked, gestured as he spoke to Captain Gregson. Why wasn’t the officer with Meghan?
“Where’s Meghan?” Ryan demanded.
“She was taken. A silver van. Heading south,” Cribs replied, his face ashen.
Terror slammed into Ryan.
“Did you get the license plate number?” Ryan asked, his voice shaking.
Cribs shook his head. “No plates.”
Just like the van that had chased them. It had to be the same men. Fear, stark and ugly, squeezed his lungs tight.
Meghan. Her name reverberated through his heart.
“We’ll put out a BOLO, start a citywide search,” Gregson said. “We’ll find her.”
Forcing himself to breathe, Ryan nodded. They had to find her. Digging deep within his soul, he found the edges of his faith and held on with all he was worth.
“Captain!” another officer yelled. “Nine-one-one received a call. They traced the cell number. It belongs to Meghan Henry.”
With hope clawing at his chest, Ryan knew they had a chance of finding her. They could use her cell phone as a GPS and, God willing, rescue her before it was too late.
