'A man called.'
Hot, acrid bitterness rose in his throat, the physical evidence of a fear too great to be born. 'What man?'
'I don't know,' Janice cried as Nick tightened his hold on her. 'He—he told Addy that he knew where Uncle Rusty was, and he knew—knew who'd kidnapped him.'
'Is she meeting this man in the coffee shop?' Perspiration broke out on Nick's face, dotting his forehead and upper lip. He felt the sticky, moist drops of sweat dripping down his back.
'Yes!' Janice's cries grew louder; tears streamed down her face. 'I tried to stop her!'
He shook Janice so forcefully that Agent Sturges clamped his hands over Nick's, trying to free the woman from Nick's wrath. Realizing that he was hurting Janice, Nick released her. 'Dammit, how could she have done something so stupid?'
Janice sought comfort in Alan Sturges's arms. 'She said to tell Alan—Agent Sturges—what she'd done if she didn't come back in a few minutes.'
'How long has she been gone?' Nick's voice was a low, deadly growl.
Swatting away a torrent of tears, Janice glanced up at the wall clock. 'About—about five minutes.'
'Sturges,' Nick yelled, 'go find Johnson! Tell him what's happened. I'm going down to the coffee shop, and you'd better pray that I'm not too late.'
Nick spent the rest of the day in a living hell, fearing the worst and hating himself for leaving Addy in another man's care, even for the few minutes it had taken to question Jim Hester. Someone had timed that phone call just right. Someone had known the minute he'd left Addy. Sturges and Johnson had known, and so had Janice Dixon. Had she been able to contact Ron Glover? Were they the man and woman behind all the threats, behind Addy's attempted kidnapping, the recent shootings and Rusty's abduction? It made perfect sense, didn't it? Glover had been on Nick's list of suspects since the very beginning.
The FBI had set up headquarters at Rusty's mansion, waiting for any kind of instructions from the kidnapper. Thankfully, Dina had slept through the afternoon and evening. Nick had been the one to tell her what had happened to Addy. He'd never seen such sheer horror on Dina's face. Did she really love Rusty McConnell enough to care about his daughter? She sure as hell acted as if she did, as if her own life depended upon Rusty's and Addy's safety.
Mrs. Hargett had been the one to take charge, to prepare sandwiches and coffee for the agents who swarmed over the house like a cluster of drone bees. The housekeeper had also been the one to keep Dina out of the way, soothing her with words and pats and occasional cups of tea that Nick suspected were laced with liquor. By nightfall, Dina was quiet and unobtrusive.
Nick sat in Rusty's huge den, his vision clouded over with memories of the past eight days he'd spent with Addy in Sequana Falls. He heard the agents' voices and saw them moving about the room, but his private thoughts blocked out the reality.
Nothing could happen to Addy. His life wouldn't be worth living without her. If he ever got his hands on the man who'd done this to her, he'd kill him. Slowly. Painfully.
The telephone rang. Every man in the room froze. After an agonizing moment of suspended time, Ned Johnson picked up the receiver.
'McConnell residence.'
Nick held his breath, waiting. Silence so profound that they could almost hear one another's heartbeats encompassed the den. Then Johnson said, 'What? Is he all right? Where was he found?'
Nick rushed over to Johnson, grabbing him by the arm. 'Who's been found?'
Ned replaced the receiver, then turned to Nick. 'Rusty McConnell has been found. He's alive and unharmed.'
'When? Where?'
'The Huntsville police found him wandering around on the side of the interstate. They thought he was drunk.' Ned motioned to two of his agents. 'Hankins, you and Murphy go down to the police station and bring Mr. McConnell home. He'll be a little groggy and disoriented. He's been drugged.'
'Drugged,' Nick said. 'If he's been drugged the whole damned time, then he's probably not going to be able to tell us who kidnapped him.'
'If the kidnapper let McConnell go, then you can bet your life he didn't reveal his identity.'
Within an hour, D.B. McConnell had been brought home, and he'd showered, shaved, eaten and smoked a cigar. No one had told him that Addy was missing, not even Dina, whose tearful reunion with her fiance had just about convinced Nick of her sincerity.
Nick had stayed out of sight, watching Rusty's homecoming from inside the house while Dina, Mrs. Hargett and half a dozen agents surrounded Rusty on the veranda. If Rusty saw him, he'd ask about Addy. As far as her father knew, Addy was still in hiding, safe and sound.
Ned Johnson approached Nick, who'd found himself a peaceful spot out in the backyard. 'McConnell has to be told. I thought you might want to be the one to tell him.'
'Yeah, thanks. She was my responsibility, and I let some maniac get to her. If anything happens to Addy —'
'Don't talk like that to her father.'
'If anything happens to her, I hope Rusty breaks my damned neck.'
'Mrs. Hargett is keeping Ms. Lunden occupied. We've got McConnell in the den.' Ned placed his hand on Nick's shoulder. 'He can't identify the kidnapper. He didn't see much more than Hester saw, except he saw the gun. A 10 mm., but we would have know that soon, anyway, from the ballistics report on the bullets the doctors dug out of Hester and Alton.'
'Anything else?'
'Yeah. His attacker was driving a dark blue Buick. Rusty got a glimpse of the license plate. He remembered the first four digits. We're running a check now, but don't get your hopes up. You know as well as I do the car was probably stolen.'
'Can you give me a few minutes alone with Rusty?' Nick asked.
'Sure thing.'
As it turned out, Nick didn't get more than three minutes alone with Addy's father after explaining to him what had happened at the hospital. The telephone rang, stunning everyone into silence.
Ned Johnson motioned an angry and outraged Rusty McConnell toward the phone. 'This could he our boy calling.'
Clinching the receiver so tightly that his knuckles whitened, Rusty answered, 'D.B. McConnell.'
'You had your chance, McConnell.' The muffled voice held an edge of sadistic pleasure. 'All you had to do was not bid on the NASP contract and Addy would have been safe.'
'Who the hell is this? If you've done anything to harm my daughter, I'll—'
'You'll what?' The man laughed. 'You should have followed instructions.'
'I can still cancel the bid,' Rusty said. 'Is that what you want?'
'It's too late, much too late for Addy.'
'No, no it isn't. Tell me what you want and I'll do it. Just don't hurt Addy.'
'She won't be in any pain. It's going to happen so quickly, she won't feel a thing. One big boom and she'll be joining her illustrious Delacourt ancestors. Of course, you won't find enough of her to bury in the old family cemetery.'
The line went dead. Rusty cursed loudly, using a string of profanities that would have put the foulest- mouthed hoodlum to shame.
Ned Johnson and Nick jumped on Rusty the minute he replaced the receiver, asking him question after question. Rusty went over the conversation again and again.
Nick knew there had to be a clue in the kidnapper's words, if only he could figure out what it was. As minutes ticked by, slowly but surely counting down the last moments of Addy's life, Nick kept making Rusty repeat every word the caller had said. Finally, Rusty broke under the pressure, turning on Nick. Rusty's big, hard fist made contact with Nick's jaw, knocking the younger man to the floor. Nick decided right then and there that he was glad he hadn't been on the receiving end of Rusty McConnell's wrath when the old man had been a little younger and in his prime.
