Rush (Eligible Receivers #3)

Chapter Twenty-two

In the six weeks Nora had been living in Linc’s house she’d seen gardeners, the pool cleaner, and once even the gas man roaming the property. So, when she saw a man through the kitchen window in tan coveralls with a pest control logo clearly printed on his back spraying the perimeter of the house, she didn’t think much of it. She went about her business of getting Sophie a juice box and taking it back to her in the living room where they were currently putting together a puzzle.

“Hey, look at you! You found the last piece of the border. Good job.” Nora got on her knees in front of the coffee table, setting Sophie’s drink down.

Sophie smiled and picked up another piece of the twenty-piece jumbo Beauty and the Beast puzzle. The tip of her tongue peeked out as she tried to make the piece fit. When she didn’t have any luck, she tried a new spot and it popped right in.

The doorbell rang. “You’re going to get this sucker finished before I even have the chance to find one piece,” Nora said standing. “Be right back.”

Pushing aside the curtain covering the front window by the door, she saw the exterminator standing on the stoop. He smiled and held up a clipboard.

Nora unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door. “Can I help you?”

“Just need to spray under the kitchen sink and then I’ll be out of your hair.” He held out an aluminum storage clipboard and, sure enough, the service was clearly highlighted on a work order.

Nora opened the door wider to let the man in. “Let me show you the way.”

“Oh, I’ve been here before. I know the way.”

Relaxing at his words, she led him to the kitchen anyway. “It’s a hot one out there today. Can I offer you a bottled water?”

“That would be great. Thank you, ma’am.”

She was in the process of turning toward the fridge when it happened. Surprisingly quick for an older man, he swung at her with the clipboard, nailing the side of her face.

Skyrockets exploded behind her eyes and her ear rang as pain like she’d never felt before sliced through her head. Knocked off balance, she was falling. She reached out an arm, trying to grab hold of something to break her fall but all she found was air. And then the back of her head hit the hard tile and the stars were back.

She had a sense of the man rushing past her. She blinked, tried to clear her vision, tried to roll to her side. She blinked again and heard the front door slam. Dazed and confused, she managed to get to her knees. She tried to call out for Sophie, but had trouble getting the word out, hearing nothing but a gurgle come from her throat.

Crawling, she used a lower cabinet to pull herself up, clutching the countertop for dear life as she attempted to blink away her disorientation. She tried her voice again. This time Sophie’s name came out more clearly, but the little girl still didn’t come running.

That’s when Nora moved.

Tightness filling her chest, she kicked off the counter, vertigo causing her to crash into a wall as she staggered to the living room. She blinked to clear her vision. The room was empty and the juice box lay on the floor.

“Sophie!”

Heart thumping, choking on her own cries and the adrenaline racing through her veins, she raced up the stairs, throwing open doors, calling Sophie’s name.

Nothing.

Flying back down the stairs, she slipped down the last five steps, landing on her ass. She wasn’t thinking, just reacting as she struggled to her feet, racing for the front door, throwing it wide.

The street was quiet. Not even a bird chirp could be heard.

Reaching into her back pocket for her phone, she realized she’d left it in the kitchen. She found the note sitting next to it on the counter.

She read it.

Not just a note. A ransom note.

Heart thumping so fast she could barely breathe, she picked up her phone. But she didn’t dial 911. She called Linc.

His phone rang. Then rang again. “Come on, come on, pick up.”

He answered on the third ring. “Hey, baby. What’s up?”

“She’s gone,” Nora screamed into the phone.

“What?Who’s gone?”

“Sophie! Someone took her.”

“Calm down and tell me where you are.”

Realizing she was yelling, Nora took a deep breath, and said, “Home.”

“Someone took her from the house?” Now Lincs voice was rising. “Who?”

“I don’t know. Some exterminator.”

“How the hell did he get in?”

“I let him in.”

“What?!” Now he was yelling. “You let a stranger into the house? What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” she said through sobs.

“Have you called the police?”

“He left a note, saying not to, so I called you first. I wasn’t sure what to do.”

“I’ll take care of it.” His harsh tone instantly made her feel two-inches tall. “Stay put. I’ll be home in a few minutes.”

“Linc!” she shouted before he had a chance to hang up. “I’m sorry.”

She received dead air in reply.

Chest heaving, she sank to the floor, bringing her knees to her chest. She wrapped her legs with her arms and dropped her head. She couldn’t stop crying. Loud wracking sobs shook her body as she hugged herself tightly, rocking.

It was all her fault.

Sophie was gone and it was all her fault.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, on the hard floor. Long enough for her ass to go numb and for Linc to arrive home. He came in through the garage still in his gym clothes with the t-shirt he wore still damp with sweat. bypassing the kitchen, he went straight to the front door. She heard a commotion—voices, radio squawks, boot clomps. The police had arrived too.

Pulling herself up off the floor she clutched at the counter as two officers and one detective came into the kitchen, led by Linc.

He didn’t even look at her when he asked, “Where’s the note?”

That hurt. But she put her feelings aside, plucking the note off the counter and holding it out.

He snatched it from her fingers, read it, then handed it off to one of the officers.

“Can you run through what happened, ma’am?” The detective pulled out a notebook and pen from the inside coat pocket of his jacket. The only thing Nora noticed about the man was he was middle-aged, had brown hair, and had kind eyes. It was those she concentrated on and not Linc while she recounted the events not wanting to see the anger and disappointment on his face.

She didn’t get far into her retelling when the detective interrupted, “What did the man look like?”

“Older. Somewhere in his sixties, maybe. Gray hair, thinning on top. About five-ten or eleven, I think. Oh!” She remembered something else. “He had a mole beside his left ear.”

“Son of a bitch,” Link spat.

“Mr. Scott? Do you think you know who did this?” the detective asked, turning his gaze on Linc.

“That description fits Sophie’s paternal grandfather.”

Nora didn’t hold back her gasp.

All eyes shot to her. All except Linc’s.

The knife in her chest twisted.

“We’re in the middle of a custody suit. They’re losing,” Linc explained.

“Names?”

“Sidney and Megan Parker. From San Antonio, Texas. I don’t know any more than that but my lawyer did a background check and has more information.”

The detective nodded. “Why don’t you give the number to Officer Hernandez while I finish questioning Ms.…”

“Olson,” Nora supplied. “Nora Olson.”

Linc stepped over to the officer and pulled out his phone.

“What happened next, Ms. Olson?”

Nora turned her attention back to the detective. “Well, he knocked on the door and when I looked through the window, he held a clipboard up like I needed to sign it or something, so I opened the door.” Nora could feel Linc’s gaze boring into her. “He showed me a work order to spray under the kitchen sink. It looked legitimate. I would have never let him in otherwise.”

“I understand,” the detective soothed. “Go on.”

“The rest is a little fuzzy. As soon as we got to the kitchen, he struck me with the clipboard. It was one of those big, square aluminum ones. The kind that holds papers inside,” she stressed, not wanting the officer to think she was a wuss, struck down by a thin piece of particleboard.

Linc spoke to her for the first time. Well, more like, barked. “He hit you?”

His incredulous tone made her snap, “Of course, he hit me.” Tired of Linc victim blaming her, she demanded, “Do you actually think I would let him walk out of the house with Sophie otherwise?”

“We’re getting off track,” the detective cut in, forestalling the argument. “Please continue, Ms. Olson.”

“Um.” It took a second for her to switch gears, as she watched Linc take a seat at the kitchen table and make a phone call, but then she picked up where she left off. “I fell to the floor, hit my head on the tile. I must have blacked out because it seemed like only a second had passed before I heard the front door slam. At that point I didn’t know it was Sophie he was after. It wasn’t until I went looking for her and saw the juice box on the carpet that it clicked.”

“Juice box?” the detective verified, scribbling everything down.

“Yes, it was flattened, like someone had stepped on it. It’s still in the living room if you’d like to see it. I didn’t touch it.”

The detective jerked his head to one of the officers and the man left the room.

“What happened next?”

“Not much. I ran to the door but they were gone. It was when I went to call 911 that I saw the note and called Linc instead.”

“Because it said not to involve the police?”

She dropped her head. In hindsight that probably hadn’t been the right thing to do. “Yes. I’m sorry. My head was still fuzzy, and I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“It’s okay, Ms. Olson. Why don’t you go sit down. Do you need us to call the paramedics?”

“No, I’m okay.”

Just then the doorbell rang and the other officer left to answer it. Another detective came in going directly to the first.

Linc came over to her while they were talking. “Where are you hurt?”

“Don’t worry about it.” She knew she sounded petty, but his behavior had hurt her. He didn’t get to blame her then try to play nice to assuage his guilt. If she had to live with hers then he had to live with his too.

He must have spotted something because his eyes turned as hard as his fingers were gentle as he pushed her hair aside revealing her temple. “He struck you harder than you let on. The area is inflamed and swollen.”

“I said I’m fine.” She hid a wince as she jerked from his touch but guessed she hadn’t hidden it well enough when concern filled his eyes. “It's nothing!” she stressed. “Sophie is what's important here, not me.”

She went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. After taking a long sip, she set it on the counter, saw the coffee maker and decided to make a pot. Anything to keep busy.

Over the course of the next hour, more people arrived—some in uniform, some carrying equipment, all with badges. Everyone had migrated into the living room, turning that space into the hub of activity when the kitchen had become too cramped. Nora sat off on the sidelines feeling useless while Linc was at its center, talking with law enforcement, making phone calls, and overall, she imagined, taking care of business. She’d even gotten a phone call herself. When her phone rang, she’d looked down at the screen, surprised at seeing Oz’s name. Their conversation had been brief, she, understandably, was not in the mood to talk, but she reassured him she was all right and promised she’d call him back soon.

The ringing of the doorbell pulled her from her thoughts as half the heads in the room popped up. An officer left to answer it, and a minute later, she was addressed.

“Nora?”

She tipped her head back. An extremely fit, older gentleman with a head of thick salt and pepper hair stood by her chair. He didn’t scream law enforcement, dressed in a polo shirt and a pair of khakis, but she did suspect he was a doctor when she spied the black bag in his hand.

She found out soon enough that her assumption was correct when the man held out his hand and introduced himself. “I’m Dr. Pierce. Linc called and asked me to take a look at you.”

Nora really didn’t want to be fussed over but she also didn’t want to be rude and turn the doctor away after he went through the trouble of making a house call. Besides, her head was throbbing. He could tell her what was okay to take for the pain. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Shall we find somewhere a little more private?”

Nora showed him to the kitchen where he asked her to sit on the table. He probed her injuries with gentle fingertips that still had her sucking in a few deep breaths as both areas were extremely tender. Next he shined a light in her eyes and checked her coordination and reflexes, all the while asking her questions.

“Since you lost consciousness, I’d like to give you an MRI,” he said, zipping up his bag after the exam. “But considering the circumstances, I have a feeling I know what your answer to that will be.”

Giving him a wistful smile, she admitted, “I’m not sure what hurts more, my head or my heart.”

He placed a fatherly hand on her knee. “Sadly, I don’t have a magic pill to cure heartache, but a couple Tylenol with help with your head.”

“I’ll be sure to take some.”

He patted her knee then pulled a card out of his pocket. “Call me if you feel dizzy, get nauseous, or if that headache doesn’t improve after forty-eight hours. Call 911 if you start vomiting, have trouble with your speech or vision, or if you have sudden muscle weakness or loss of coordination.”

She took the card. “Thank you.”

He looked over his shoulder toward the living room and the ruckus which could be heard. “I don’t want to disturb Linc but tell him to stay in touch and to keep an eye on you.”

“I will.”

He canted his head as though he knew she was full of it but didn't push. “We’re all wishing for Sophie’s safe return home. She’s a sweet little girl.”

“You know her?” Nora asked, surprised.

“Linc brings her by the stadium every so often. I’m the team doctor. Sophie’s the reason I now have lollipops and stickers in my office.”

She should have figured Linc would call the team doctor. “Well, thanks again for stopping by.” She hoped that didn’t sound rushed but her head was really throbbing and she just wanted to take that Tylenol he suggested and go sit back in her chair where no one bothered her.

The doctor’s eyes darted to where Linc’s voice could be heard and back to Nora. “He's got too much in his head to see what’s in front of him right now, but he was deeply worried about you.” He patted her knee again. “I’ll see myself out.”

It wasn’t until she heard the front door close that Nora got down from the table, took the painkillers, and made her way back to her chair. She looked at the time on her phone.

Four o’clock.

Six hours until Linc had to make the money drop.

Six hours until they’d get Sophie back.

Funny how six hours could feel fleeting and endless both at the same time.