Tooth And Nailed Part 20

"Simon, they won't." Jack took his old friend by the shoulders and gave him a careful shake. "They won't and you know it. They won't let her go because they can't. They never intended to. They'll use her to get you there and then they'll kill you both."

"I have to try!" Simon shouted, looking older and more haggard than Jack had ever seen him. "Look at what they're doing to her!" He knocked Jack's hands away, rage twisting his features as the last of the shock faded and white-hot anger took its place. "How can you stand here and be so calm while they're torturing my baby girl!"

"Because I have to!" Jack shouted, his own rage boiling over. "I can't help her if I get angry because they're going to kill her! They're going to kill her and if I'm not calm, I won't be able to stop them!"

"Dammit, I'm scared!" Simon slammed his fists down on the desk, making the laptop jump and toppling the Tiffany lamp. It hit the floor and shattered into a thousand colorful shards neither man noticed. "I'm terrified for her."

"So am I!" Jack's hands were clenched in bloodless fists at his sides. "I love her too, you know."

Amazingly that brought a glimmer of a smile to Simon's face. "I knew you did," he said, the anger drained out of his voice. Suddenly deflated, he sat heavily in the desk chair once again, putting his head in his hands. "How are we going to get her out of there, Jack? How are we going to save my baby?"

Jack swallowed the lump of fear in his own throat and put his hand on Simon's shoulder. "I'm going to find her, Simon. I promise. But I need you to work with me and I need you to try and stay calm. If we go off half-c.o.c.ked, they'll kill her!"

Simon's hand came up to cover Jack's, his grip desperately strong. He took a deep breath then released it slowly. "What do we do?"

Jack squeezed his friend's shoulder before letting go. "First, I need to have a look at that email."

Chapter Fourteen.

Rowan kept her eyes closed and took silent inventory. Her head hurt, her body felt like she'd been run over by a truck and the greasy waves of nausea in her stomach had her breathing deeply though her mouth to keep it down. She'd woken up again when the same two cross-wearing henchmen who'd been in the room with Job had brought her wherever she was now, but she'd kept her eyes shut and her body limp so they'd think she was still knocked out from the shot they'd given her. They'd left as soon as they were finished securing her hands and feet once again, their voices fading as they'd walked away, and she'd waited a couple of minutes to be sure they were gone before opening her eyes.

When she felt it was safe, she slowly lifted her head, opening her eyes to look around the room. She winced at the lighta"there was a fluorescent fixture right above her heada"and the room spun sickeningly but she blinked repeatedly until it came into focus.

It was round, the curved walls fas.h.i.+oned from cinder blocks painted a ghastly green. The only furniture in the room was a single ladder-back chair and whatever she was tied to. She looked down to see what it was and grimaced in distaste.

"For G.o.d's sake," she muttered, her voice echoing in the small chamber. "Can't they be the slightest bit original?"

She was on a large wooden cross in the middle of the room. As far as she could tell it was laid horizontal on some sort of platform that kept it raised about three feet off the floor. She was again tethered hand and foot with additional rope wound around her waist and torso for good measure. She noticed, unsurprised, they'd taken her bathrobe, leaving her naked.

"Of course they did," she said out loud, and struggled to tamp down the fear. She knew Job had called Jacka"she had a vague recollection of thata"and she knew it would only be a matter of time before he found her. She just had to hold on until he showed up with the cavalry.

"Which I hope is soon," she said, s.h.i.+vering. The room was cold and the bindings on her wrists and ankles were starting to cut into her skin. She s.h.i.+fted experimentally, trying to loosen the ropes but they were too tight and she couldn't reach the knots with her fingers. She tried until her wrists were rubbed raw from the rope and her head was throbbing from the exertion but got nowhere.

The throb in her head was making the nausea rise in her throat again so she closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing until it pa.s.sed. She decided to conserve her strength for whatever was coming next and concentrated on relaxing her tense muscles.

She lay there for at least half an hour, getting colder and more uncomfortable by the minute. She tried to make the best of the time alone, carefully looking around and memorizing the contours of the room, searching out possible weapons or escape routes. There was only one door and the only weapon was the wooden chair. Which wouldn't do her any good if she was still tied to the cross.

"I feel like I'm in a bad movie," Rowan said aloud, her voice bouncing off the walls.

She s.h.i.+fted, trying in vain to find a more comfortable position on the plank of wood she was lying on. The ropes around her waist were too snug to allow for much movement so she only succeeded in sc.r.a.ping her spine along the rough wood. Frustration and fear were building inside her, making it hard to remain calm. She tried reciting the preamble to the Const.i.tution in her head but couldn't concentrate. Her mind kept wandering back to Jack and her father.

They had to be going insane with worry. She vaguely remembered a flash of light going off while Job had been on the phone with Jack. It must have been a camera flash, proof they had her. She winced, hoping they'd only sent it to Jack and not to her father. She could only imagine how crazy her father would go if he saw her like this.

Her thoughts were interrupted at the creak of wood and she turned her head to see the door opening. Job stood in the doorway, his henchmen flanking him, all of them wearing identical serene smiles.

"Ms. Evans. It's good to see you again." He stepped in the room as the henchmen took flanking positions in the hall. He smiled wider and closed the door behind him. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Jack, where are you?

He was pacing Simon's study, growing more frustrated by the second.

"G.o.dd.a.m.n it all to h.e.l.l and back, Jacob!" Jack struggled to keep the snarl out of his voice. "I need that IP address and I need it now."

"I'm working on it, Jack." The young man at the computer never took his eyes off the screen. "I'll get further if you stop breathing down my neck."

Jack bit back a pithy retort and spun away to pace some more. When his cell phone rang, he had it open and answered before the first ring died away. "Donnelly." He listened for a moment. "I thought so. Okay, round them up, question them. Call me back with any developments."

He clicked off and walked over to sit next to Simon on the couch. "Simon, the address they gave you in the email was a trapa"she wasn't there."

Simon looked up from his fisted hands. "You're sure?"

Jack nodded. "My people are there now. There were a couple of Job's men there, waiting to grab you and take you someplace else. They're being questioned," he added before Simon could ask.

Simon nodded. "Okay, so what now?"

"Now we find out where she is, either from the computer trace or from the men he had waiting for you, whichever comes first."

Simon nodded again. "Did you find out what happened to the men you had at Rowan's house?"

Jack's face turned grim, a fierce light coming into his eyes. "They were found, bound and gagged in her bas.e.m.e.nt. Not dead," he said when Simon's face went ashen. "Drugged heavily though, they had enough barbiturates in their systems to push them into a drug-induced coma. They're on their way to the hospital."

Simon sighed in relief then frowned. "Were they taken by surprise?"

"It looks like they were nabbed before I even dropped Rowan off." He hesitated then said, "Her neighbor Marvin was with them. He may have been in the house when they showed upa"he was keeping an eye on it for her while she was gone. He's fine," he hasted to add at the look of horror on Simon's face. "He's at the hospital, being treated for cuts and bruises along with the sedative. Apparently he put up quite a fight."

"Good for him," Simon said, his voice fierce.

Jack opened his mouth to reply when a triumphant shout came from behind him.

"Got you, you little b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"

Both Simon and Jack leapt up to race over to where Jacob sat at the computer, a maniacal grin spread over his face. "Little f.u.c.ker was bounced all over h.e.l.l and gone but I finally tracked it down." He gestured to the screen. "Check it out."

Jack clapped a hand on Jacob's shoulder. "Jacob, I could kiss you."

"You're not really my type, boss."

Jack grinned. "Same goes." He opened a cabinet to reveal a cache of weapons, kept on hand for emergencies. "Send that address to Michael and Corbin in the field, tell them to head there and wait for me."

Simon stepped forward. "I'm going too."

Jack tucked a pistol in the waistband of his jeans and a knife in his boot. "You can't. It's too dangerous."

"She's my daughter, Jack."

"And you're the reason she was taken." The spasm of pain on Simon's face had him reaching out to grip his friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "but the fact is they want you even more than they want her. If you go, I'm going to have to worry about protecting both of you."

Simon's face twisted with anguish and his voice was hoa.r.s.e with unshed tears. "You find her, Jack. You find her and do whatever you have to do to keep her safe."

"I will. You have my word on it." He squeezed Simon's shoulder in rea.s.surance then turned to Jacob. "Make that call."

Simon watched as he sprinted out the door, hope blooming in his heart for the first time since he'd gotten the email. "Jacob," he said, turning to the younger man, "I could use a drink. Would you like to join me?"

Jacob nodded. "I could do with a scotch, if you've got it."

Simon picked up a decanter from the bar. "Scotch it is."

Rowan scowled and tried not to throw up from fright. "Why are you doing this?"

Job looked surprised by the question. "Is it important?" he asked, coming to a halt next to her p.r.o.ne form, and she struggled to not be cripplingly humiliated at her nudity.

"Considering you're getting ready to kill mea"and my father, if I'm not mistakena"yes, I think it's very important. Do you really think you've been given some divine directive, some mission from G.o.d to kill my father?"

He chuckled, his sagging chin wobbling. "Christ, no."

She blinked, startled. "Huh?"

"Of course not," he said, looking at her with reproach. "I'd thought you were smarter than that, darling girl. I couldn't give a flying f.u.c.k for all that religion bulls.h.i.+t. That was my father's calling, not mine."

"Excuse me?" Rowan started at him, incredulous. "Then what the f.u.c.k am I doing tied naked to a G.o.dd.a.m.n cross?"

"Oh that's just a little bit of theater." He waved his hand vaguely. "One does have to keep up appearances, you know."

Rowan opened her mouth to speak then closed it. "I have no idea what's going on."

"I'm so sorry," Job said, laying a hand on her bare midriff. The feel of his hand, cold and clammy, on her bare flesh made her want to throw up again. "I can see where this may have been a bit confusing for you, what with all the publicity. Let me see if I can explain."

He lifted his hand and moved to the foot of the cross. Her vast relief at no longer having his hand on her was quickly replaced by trepidation when he picked up a control box from the floor. He hit a b.u.t.ton and she barely m.u.f.fled a squeal as the cross began to lift.

"You see," he began, raising his voice to be heard over the clank of the lift chain, "my father was shortsighted. All he cared about was G.o.d, G.o.d, G.o.d. What G.o.d wanted, what G.o.d intended. *You must lead the flock, Stevie', he'd say to me. I hated it when he called me Stevie. *Lead them where the Lord wills it.' Well, f.u.c.k that. I'll lead them where I will it."

Rowan listened with half an ear, concentrating on the movement of the cross. The pneumatics were lifting it, raising it, so it stood upright on its end. She winced as the ropes around her wrists dug in as her weight settled, gravity pulling her down against the bonds. The ropes around her torso kept her from falling forward, digging into her rib cage painfully and making it difficult to breathe.

The lift finally stopped moving, the cross settling into place with a clank and Job set the control back on the floor. "People are sheep, Father was right about that," he said. "But he wanted to lead them *in the path of righteousness'! Please." He dismissed that with a sneer. "What's in it for me?"

Rowan swallowed heavily as he moved to stand in front of her. Her position on the cross elevated her above him so his head was level with her bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s and she barely controlled a tremor as he reached out to absently stroke one nipple. "I don't know," she managed.

He laughed, genuine humor mixing with the gleam of homicidal mania in his face. It wasn't a good look. "Nothing!" he chortled. Actually chortled.

"So maybe you should think of another career," she suggested. "I hear they're hiring at the airport."

"Nah, I've got a new career," he said with a smile. A very toothy, fangy smile. "I'm a vampire."

"Oh. My. G.o.d," she breathed.

"Isn't it great?" he enthused, literally jumping up and down with boyish glee. "Bet you didn't know there were really such things as vampires, did you?"

"Uhano," she said, watching him spin in gleeful circles.

"n.o.body does," he sighed, coming to a stop in front of her again. He reached out and put both hands on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, squeezing until she winced in pain. "n.o.body knows, n.o.body knows but me," he sang.

He's flat-out nuts, Rowan realized, biting her lip to keep from screaming as his fingers tightened even farther on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "What about the people in your church?" she choked out.

"Oh they won't find out," he said, giving her nipples a sharp tweak before releasing her. He tilted his head, a funny half smile on his face, and Rowan realized with horror that he was admiring the marks already forming on her bruised b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"Lovely," he murmured dreamily then blinked. "Anyway, it's all part of my plan."

Rowan had to swallow twice before she could ask, "Plan?"

"Oh I didn't tell you about the plan! I'm so sorry." He shook his head. "I've been so busy lately, it just slipped my mind. Anyway, the plan is basically thisa"take over the world."

Rowan stared. Not just nuts, she decided, but completely insane.

He went on. "How, you may ask, do I plan to do this? It's quite simple really. All those religious fanatics my father surrounded himself with for all those years are finally going to come in handy."

"How's that?" she asked. Keep him talking, buy some time. Where the f.u.c.k are you, Jack?

"Oh the details are boring," he said with a dismissive wave. "You don't want to hear about that."

"Oh but I do," she protested, desperate to keep him talking instead of doing. She had a feeling when he started doing, the situation was going to go downhill fast.

"Well I don't want to tell you about it!" he snarled, and she flinched away. "I'd rather get on with the show," he continued in an almost normal tone of voice. "You're the star of the show, you know. You should feel very proud."

"But I'm not prepared," she squeaked out, trying to shrink back into the wood of the cross as he came closer.

"Don't worry about that," he said, madness glowing in his eyes as he pulled a knife from his pocket. He laid it against her breastbone and smiled. "I am."

And as he drew the blade across her flesh, Rowan started to pray.

Jack crouched near the bas.e.m.e.nt window of the house and signaled for the two men waiting in the shadows to join him. They moved quickly on silent feet and crouched beside him, taking care to stay out of the wash of light from the windows.

Michael, his surfer-blond hair hidden under a watch cap, snapped the wad of bubble gum in his mouth. "How's it look, boss?"

Jack kept his voice low. "The outbuildings are all empty, not in use. This is the main house and it's mostly empty. There are three people, all women, in the kitchen on the main floor at the back. They've got Rowan in the bas.e.m.e.nt, two armed men guarding the door and one in the room with her."

Corbin gave a short, sharp nod, his no-nonsense, all-business demeanor in direct contrast to Michael's casual gum chewing. "How do you want to play it?"