Tough Justice: Hunted

The man shot a glance toward the street where an official-looking car awaited. “Where’s Marshal Linden? He’s our caseworker.”

“He’s setting up the new safe house. I need to move the baby now.”

“We need to get dressed...”

“We need to keep you separate, in case we’re followed. Peter wants to remove the child first. The two of you will follow when we get the all-clear. I’ll be texting you directions. Be ready.” He stepped into the foyer. The gun beneath his jacket was a heady reminder that he was the one in control.

Tears sprang to the woman’s eyes. “I’ll... I’ll go get her.” She disappeared down a hallway.

The woman returned with the dark-haired sleeping seven-month-old in her arms. The tears that had gleamed in her eyes moments before now coursed down her cheeks. The little girl was clad in a mint-green sleeper and wrapped in a pink blanket.

“You’ll call us soon?” she asked.

He gave a curt nod. “We have to move now.” He walked to the woman, and with a small sob she handed him the baby. Immediately she began to cry in earnest, and her husband quickly placed an arm around her shoulder.

He didn’t wait to see anything else. He had what he wanted, and the two frightened people meant nothing to him. If they hadn’t complied, then he would have shot them without a second thought.

He turned on his heels and left the house. It wasn’t until they were in the car and pulling away from the curb that he allowed the full flush of his success to sweep through him. He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes.

Brilliant. He was absolutely brilliant. People were so stupid, so incredibly easy to manipulate for a man like him.

He smiled as he thought of the people he’d just left. The Minnows. That name had suited them...they were little bait fish, and he was the shark that had eaten them whole.

He hadn’t needed to demand that they give him the child. He hadn’t even had to show a weapon. The stupid cows had willingly relinquished her to him. Most parents are willing to do anything to protect their child.

He cracked an eyelid open and slid a glance to the man in the driver seat. Big and burly, Joseph Fowler, aka Big Joe, had been the perfect connection to tap into for help.

Big Joe had been a low-level operative in the syndicate who had skated under the FBI radar. He was an ex-felon who worshipped Andrew.

A smile curved his lips once again. He was a freaking genius. Nobody else could have pulled off what he’d done. The smile fell away. There was only one person who might just be his match.

FBI Special Agent Lara Grant...his Eve.

His guts clenched tight and then relaxed. She might have gotten the upper hand on him once, but that was his past. He turned and glanced into the backseat where her child...his child slept in a newly purchased car seat.

He was back in power.

* * *

He’s out.

Lara sat on the side of the bed, momentarily unable to think at all as an internal screaming inside her head began. She stared at the cell phone in her hand and tried to swallow against the horror that made her nauseous.

Somehow Moretti had managed to escape from prison, and now the entire world had turned upside down.

“Lara?”

She jumped at the sound of Nick’s deep voice so close to her. She’d momentarily forgotten his presence in her bed. The first rays of sunshine seeped through the window, but she scarcely looked at him. Instead she focused her attention down to her cell phone where she quickly punched in a series of numbers.

“That was Victoria. Moretti escaped from prison at least four hours ago,” she said and frowned at the sound of the unanswered ringing at the other end of her call. When it went to voice mail she hung up and dialed the number again.

Her chest ached with the frantic pounding of her heart as the abject horror of what Victoria had relayed to her fully sank in. He’s out of prison, and he knows about the baby.

It was never supposed to happen. It was her very worst nightmare come true. Andrew Moretti was free, and who knew who he had on his payroll? How many henchmen did he already have in his power to do his bidding? What would his next move be? And why in the hell wasn’t US Marshal Peter Linden answering his phone?

Every fear Lara had ever experienced before in her entire life coalesced and pooled in the pit of her stomach as she tried the number with the same results for the fourth time. She fought the impulse to throw her phone against the wall in terrified frustration.

Cold. She’d never been so cold in her life as an icy fear clutched at her very soul. She gripped her cell phone tightly and stared down at the keypad.

Another set of numbers sitting in her Contacts. Dare she use them now? With Moretti’s escape, how could she not? She punched in the Call button, her heart once again pounding with a tremendous force.

Faye Minnow answered on the second ring. “This is FBI Agent Lara Grant,” Lara said, grateful her voice betrayed none of the turmoil that still wailed loudly inside of her.

She didn’t have to worry about Faye recognizing her as Emily’s mother. During the time she had spent with David and Faye Minnow while in the safe house, they’d only known her as Eve. She could only hope that enough time had passed since that time that Faye wouldn’t now recognize her voice.

“I’m calling to check on your daughter’s safety,” Lara said. She couldn’t say the name Emily because she knew that the baby and Faye and David’s identity had been changed several times since they’d lived in the cheerful yellow house in Maywood, New York.

“She’s safe. Peter Linden’s partner came to take her into Code Red protective custody about a half an hour ago. We’re waiting to follow.”

Lara sucked in a deep breath. “Where is Marshal Linden?”

“Setting up the safe house, but Marshal Adam Kincaid had orders from Marshal Linden to rush her to safety, saying it was a Level Ten. It all happened so fast.” Faye’s voice broke with obvious emotion. “I don’t understand why they didn’t let us go with her. David and I want...we need our daughter back where she belongs, with us. I thought they’d contact us by now.” Faye released a small sob.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Minnow. We’re working on making that happen as quickly as possible. I’ll contact you soon.” There were so many things Lara wanted to say but didn’t know how. Lara didn’t wait for a reply. She hung up and jumped up off the bed. “We’ve got to get to headquarters and get together with the team. Something definitely isn’t right.”

She started for the bedroom door focused only on her need to get to FBI headquarters as quickly as possible. Before she got out of the room Nick grabbed her by the arm to halt her progress.

She jerked away from him angrily. “Nick, we’ve got to go now,” she exclaimed. “We can talk more in the car.”

“Lara, you need to get dressed before we leave here to meet the rest of the team.” Nick spoke slowly and carefully.

Lara stared at him and suddenly realized that while she’d been on the phone, he had gotten up and dressed. She looked down at herself, for the first time recognizing that she was still naked.

Frantically she grabbed clothes from the closet and a dresser drawer and then raced for the bathroom. Her fingers trembled as she put on her underwear and then pulled on a pair of her familiar black pants and a black turtleneck. Socks and boots followed, and then she quickly ran a brush through her hair and brushed her teeth.

In all it took her about five minutes...five precious minutes lost in a world where all of the minutes were suddenly vitally important. She didn’t speak to Nick until they were in his car and headed to the 26 Federal Plaza, and only then did she tell him what Faye Minnow had said to her.

“Something is terribly wrong,” she said, still fighting the shrill alarms ringing loudly in her head. Even though the seven-month old little girl might have been given a new name, she would always be Emily in Lara’s mind. It was the name Lara had given her in the first moments after birth.

She looked at Nick. Less than eight hours ago they had been in bed together having hot and passionate sex. What she needed from him now was some sort of reassurance that everything was going to be all right. But she also knew he wasn’t one to throw around false platitudes.

“I agree, but we can’t jump to conclusions,” he replied somberly. “With a four-hour head start we’re going to have our work cut out for us in finding Moretti.”

His honesty was what she hated and what she liked about him. They were finally at a place where he pulled no punches with her. He wouldn’t allow her a moment of wishful thinking that somehow by the time they got to headquarters Moretti would be back behind bars and baby Emily would once again be with the parents who adopted her.

She stared out of the passenger window, each breath a painful ache in her tight chest. Four hours. Moretti had a four-hour head start to put some sort of plan into place, to find some place safe to hole up. He wouldn’t have left the prison without a definite plan and people waiting to assist him in whatever he needed to remain free on the outside.

She had so many questions now that some of the initial shock was beginning to wear off. How had Moretti managed to escape? Was his brother, Mason Moretti, still in the prison hospital? Dammit, how had Moretti gotten away?