“Oh, my God!” Shade had squealed during her private news show. “That’s him. Wait. There was a woman with him. Why isn’t there a clip of her?”
“Dig a little deeper, Mark. I want the woman with the dog. Find her. Speak with her,” Alex ordered as he handed the cell back. “Shade just accused my agents of a federal crime. I’ll have her lying ass for this. But if they’re dead…” I’ll have her head.
Which may never happen, as quickly as her fellow reporters had fired more probing questions at her than she could handle.
“You’re kidding? Your kidnapper was blind?”
“Where’s his AK-14?” That was asked with blatant sarcasm.
“There’s no such thing as an AK-14. Did you mean AR-15, AK-47, or M16? Which was it?”
“I can only tell you what the police told me,” she yelled over them. “I promise to meet with you once I know more. Thanks for coming!”
“Which will be a cold day in Hell,” Alex groused.
“She’s bitten off more than she can chew,” Mark added, “and she knows it. She seems to be making this crap up as she goes.”
“So who’s running this shit show, Shade or Vladimir?”
“My guess is Shade. He might be built, but he acts like he’s scared of her.”
“You think she lured Jameson and Maddie to their deaths?”
“No, Boss. I interviewed Jameson. He’s smarter than that. I’ll give you ten-to-one-odds that he and Maddie weren’t on the jet when it blew. Miss Shade is about to become the sensational news story of the year,” Mark drawled. “I can see the headline now. Lucy Meets Bitter End.”
Alex grunted. He had a different headline in mind. Lucy Shade Found Guilty of Attempted Murder.
“Call everyone in who’s not out of town. Finding Maddie and Jameson is our only active operation as of right now. Mother needs to be ready to pull local traffic cams and satellite imagery the minute I can access airport security videos. I want eyes in the sky and boots on the ground. Call Harley. I need his dogs.”
“Mother’s already on standby. Your helo pilot as well. Harley can’t make it, he’s on call at the emergency vet tonight, but he’ll bring Boris and Karloff as soon as he can get away. Don’t worry, Boss. Once we know where to look, we’ll find Maddie and Jameson.”
Boris and Karloff were two of Harley’s best tracking dogs.
Alex raked his fingers over his head, impatient as always and antsy as hell. Finding Maddie and Jameson wasn’t the problem. Finding them alive was.
Chapter Ten
Go, get help, humph, Maddie thought as she crawled steadily through the ceiling ductwork. What am I, just some brainless woman who can’t do anything but run away like a scaredy cat?
In twenty feet or so, the ceiling level ductwork turned into floor level ductwork that emptied into an old-fashioned kitchen with worn, linoleum-tiled flooring, dirt encrusted walls, and an empty square space where a stove had been. Men’s voices came from the next room. A dim overhead light was on. A dozen or so fast food bags and empty beer bottles littered the counters.
Pressing both palms to the grated vent, she pushed, but then cringed when one side of it held tight while the other creaked open a scant few inches. She hadn’t anticipated the vent wouldn’t pop off like they did in movies. By then her hands were shaking. When no one came running to see what the noise was, she steeled her wits and tried again. Then again.
Good grief, the screw holding the vent in place on the left wouldn’t give. But Jameson had said this was her time to shine, and one little screw wasn’t going to stop her. Gripping the free side of the grate with both hands, she bent it outward at a ninety-degree angle, then extricated her ass and legs and scrambled to her feet. Her throat was drier than dirt by then, and her heart pounded, but she could do this.
Looking over her shoulder as she worked, Maddie bent the vent cover back into place, then lifted to her feet and flattened her back against the wall to keep from shaking. The way out lay directly across the floor from her. But some guy in the other room was growling a terse string of angry Gaelic that sent an icy shiver up her spine. Other loud male voices followed, their tones more agreeable. Mr. Tense-and-Gaelic had to be the boss, maybe Pops Delaney?
Maddie didn’t intend to stick around to find out. She could get herself killed, and she just plain didn’t have that kind of nerve. Jameson was the covert operator, not her. She was just admin. But tonight, he needed her help, and he was going to get it. Any minute now…
He’d create a distraction, and then she’d run and then…
A better idea sprang to mind. If he could create distractions, so could she.
Ducking quickly across the open kitchen doorway to the next room, she made it to the back door and was outside in seconds, her lungs pumping for air and her heart racing from too much adrenaline. She could do this. She could save Jameson. Wouldn’t he be surprised?
But she had to act fast. What to do, what to do? Several trucks and assorted cars were parked in the dirt outside the kitchen exit, under a dim yard light stuck way up high on a telephone pole. It gave her just enough light to see without being seen. Maddie prowled those vehicles carefully and quietly, looking for keys. She didn’t spend much time in any of them, afraid the dome lights might give her away. Finally. Bingo. Not only a set of keys, but a lighter, an unopened pack of cigarettes, and a ball cap. Those things might all come in handy, but she only took the keys and lighter.
More quick prowling earned her a loaded pistol hidden inside the driver’s side door pocket of a topless SUV, a tire iron from the open bed of a pickup, and
