Cold Spite (Cold Justice: Most Wanted #5)

Chapter 58

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

T hey’d made love when they’d gotten back to the townhouse, and then Delilah had showered and dressed and taken the files Yael had compiled about the prison visitors to sit on the couch and start over from the beginning. Scanlon had to have been communicating with someone to set up this complex plan, and as his SEAL buddies Holtz and Johnson both had alibis for Nicole’s murder, it meant someone else was involved. Something nagged at her, but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

It was only four p.m., but the storm clouds made it feel much later. Cas was at the other end of the couch, reading the Seattle Police reports on the shooting death of Nicole Zimmerman—thanks to Yael’s magic skills. But no one had seen anything, just a shadowy figure, running away.

Cas’s cell rang and his expression changed. “I have to go in.”

“That’s okay.” Her eyes were gritty with fatigue. “I’m going to catch an early night.”

He smiled and something melted inside her. “I’ll call if I’m going to be long. Keep your phone close, and your guard up.”

“Yes, sir.” She yawned. She’d barely slept last night.

One side of Cas’s mouth turned up. “Someone is waiting for me outside otherwise…” He leaned over and kissed her on the mo uth. “This will be over soon, and we can figure out the future—together.”

She nodded. She wasn’t sure what that was going to look like, but knew she had some decisions to make.

Cas went out the door and locked it behind him.

Today had been traumatic and exhausting in a different way from the rest of the week. The fact her father had threatened Cas five years ago had blindsided her, and yet it made everything finally click into place and make sense.

And as much as he’d wanted to join HRT, had left the SEALs to do so, she knew that it would have been the family dynamic—the fear of not belonging—that had been the decider for him. That was the thing that had sent him running.

He didn’t seem to understand that, as awkward as it would have been to start with, eventually her father would have come around. They would have fought and argued and still made up afterwards. Still figured out a way to fit into each other’s lives because that was how most healthy families operated.

But how could he have known?

He couldn’t.

And how could she stay angry with her father who was slipping so quickly away from her? She needed time to process her feelings for the man he was now, but also the man he’d been back then. She needed to untangle the complexities of love and family and betrayal, but she had so little time left with him…it might already be too late.

The question for her and Cas—and any chance of a future they might have together—was had they both learned from their past mistakes? Love wasn’t the issue. It never had been. Communication was. Trust was.

But none of that mattered until they put Scanlon away.

She sat staring at a photo of one of the visitors and wondered why it made her senses tingle. The name wasn’t familiar. The address raised no flags, but there was something about the eyes that tugged a memory …

Her cell rang and she answered it absently even though she didn’t recognize the number. Various people from the task force plus Alex Parker and Killion all had this number. “Hello?”

There was a pause. “I honestly didn’t believe it.”

She instantly stood and leaned down to use the chat function on the laptop to message Yael who was the only person she’d messaged this way.

Scanlon is calling my cell…

“Who is this?” If she could keep him on the line maybe Yael could trace it.

“Ha. Funny. Are you alone? And before you lie to me, you should know that I have something of yours you might care about so don’t piss me off.”

How did he get this number? Had he ambushed Cas outside? Alarmed, she picked up her Glock off the side table and went to the window, but there was no one out there.

“I’m alone.”

She went back to the laptop to check Yael’s reply.

On it.

“How did you get this number?”

“Never mind. Listen up. I want you to go get in that truck of yours and start driving southwest.”

She put the gun down to type.

He knows I have a truck.

“I have no intention of doing anything you suggest unless it’s to come watch the cops slap the cuffs on you after you confess to trying to kill me.”

“You have five minutes to pack up your shit.”

“Look, I didn’t sleep last night, Joseph?— ”

As she spoke, she relayed his instructions to Yael.

“Hate to break it to you, princess, but you’re not gonna sleep tonight either—and who is Joseph? Someone you’re boning? Get in the fucking truck. You have four minutes and forty-five seconds to get whatever shit you need together for a long drive. Otherwise things will get real, fast.”

“Why do you think for one minute I’d do as you say?”

“Because I have something you value.”

Her mind raced with possibilities. “There’s nothing I want that would be worth dying for, and you sure as hell aren’t inviting me over so we can laugh about old times.”

“I’ll be sure to tell that to your parents.”

She struggled to breathe.

“What do you mean? What have you done to my parents, you bastard?”

Ignoring the fear, she frantically typed into the chat box.

“Now, now, Delilah, no one likes a woman with a potty mouth.”

“Fuck you. No one likes a man who kills innocents or kidnaps the old and infirm.” Her mother would forgive her for talking about her this way. “And I’m not doing anything without proof of life, motherfucker.”

His anger radiated over the line. “Get in your truck, bitch. Do as I say every step of the way, or they die. We see any cops or Feds with you, they die.”

We ?

Her heart started beating too hard. There was no amount of training in the world that could have prepared her for this.

She typed frantically.

Says he has my parents. Kill them if law involved. Tell Cas.

She didn’t know how he could help but she wasn’t leaving him in the dark this time. Not now they’d finally found each other again.

CIA has a tracker on the truck, and I have my cell, but I think Scanlon must have tagged my truck too.

How? Where?

“Proof of life or I’m not going anywhere,” she insisted.

She grabbed her purse, her creds, her weapon. Made sure she had extra ammo.

An image downloaded of her parents’ terrified eyes staring out over duct-taped mouths in what looked like the trunk of a vehicle.

Outrage roared through her. She started to shake. “I want to see a live stream otherwise there’s no proof they are still alive.”

“Do as I say or they won’t be.”

“You bastard.”

“Keep the phone on. I’ll call regularly with instructions, and you’ll send me a photo of you every hour in the truck, so I know you’re exactly where you say you’ll be. You call anyone or screw with me, they’re dead.”

She typed madly on the screen to Yael.

He sent a photo of my parents. I have to do as he says until we can figure this out. He wants a photo of me every hour. Not allowed to call anyone…

She didn’t know if he was somehow monitoring her cell. But Yael could find out.

Can he hear me on my cell?

I’ll figure it out. Drive very slowly. Stop for gas and supplies to slow it down. Say nothing about me or the FBI out loud for now. I’ll get back to you with a plan as soon as I know your cell is secure. UR not alone. We’ll get them back .

Delilah grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, although, depending on how far she had to drive tonight, coffee might be a better idea.

The thought of anyone hurting her parents was unbearable. She already knew how ruthless Scanlon and his accomplices were. Rage burned through her alongside frustration. She needed to stop this sonofabitch before anyone else got hurt.