Chapter Five

There are so many cool things I would do

if it weren’t for the laws of physics.

And regular laws.

—Meme

“Where is my daughter?” Izzy asked as a nurse scrambled to answer phone call after phone call.

The nurse’s startled expression at Izzy’s question filled her with a deep sense of dread. Something had gone terribly wrong.

“Where is radiology?” Michael asked, almost yelling at her.

The older woman put a hand over the receiver and pointed toward the elevators. “First floor. Across from the labs.”

Once again, he didn’t wait for said elevator. Or Izzy, for that matter. He tore through the door to the stairwell and disappeared.

Izzy ran after him, but she couldn’t think. Did Emma have another attack? Or was she still waiting for the X-ray machine to open up, and none of this had anything to do with her? Panic squeezed her chest tight and blurred her vision as Michael took the stairs one platform at a time. Izzy hurried behind him, but keeping up was not an option.

He burst through the door on the first floor, the sound echoing in the stairwell. Izzy made it just as the door bounced back. She shoved her way through it and watched as he ran down the hall like he knew exactly where he was going. Thank the gods. Because Izzy was lost.

He turned right and disappeared, but she heard his voice, sharp and loud. “Where is Emma Walsh?”

When Izzy caught up to him, she saw two nurses working on the girl who’d taken Emma to X-ray. She lay in a puddle of blood. Izzy’s world began to spin. Michael grabbed her before she could fall and pulled her against him. Held her tight.

“What happened?” he said, glaring at the unconscious nurse.

“We don’t know,” a radiology technician said. “We just found Camilla like this.” He pressed a cloth to the young nurse’s head as two others rushed up with a gurney. “You’ll have to wait in the—”

“Where is the girl she had with her?” He scanned the area.

The tech finally spared Michael a glance. “She had a patient with her?”

“Our daughter.”

Izzy looked up at him in surprise. She knew why he was referring to Emma as his daughter. Time was of the essence. They didn’t need the medical personnel questioning his involvement. She was just surprised he’d thought of it.

He continued, unfazed. “Five years old. Where is she?” Dragging Izzy with him, he stomped past them and into the radiology area. He spun around. Looked behind every door. Peered through every window.

Nothing.

Nobody.

“Michael,” Izzy said, unable to wrap her head around what was happening.

“Search every nook and cranny,” he said to one of the lab technicians.

The woman took off, searching every room thoroughly. Izzy’s heart beat against her ribs as if trying to escape.

Two officers came up and started asking the nurses questions. Michael strode up to them. There was nothing innocuous about his stance, even with Izzy in his arms.

The tallest of the two turned to him. “Sir, you’ll have to wait in the lobby.”

“She’s our daughter,” he lied. Partially. “I want to see the security footage.”

“We can’t let a civilian see the footage right now. My sergeant is on the way.”

He stepped closer to the officer until their noses were almost touching. “This is the girl’s mother. We may know who took her. We need to see the footage.”

“We don’t know that anyone has been taken yet.” The officer put his hand on his Taser and stood his ground, even though Michael outweighed him by a good thirty pounds of pure muscle. “I can’t do anything without approval.”

“You want approval?” Michael asked. “I’ll get you approval.” He took out his phone with his free hand and scrolled until he found the number he was looking for.

“What are you doing?” Izzy asked.

“Calling for backup.” He put the phone on speaker so Izzy could hear, as well as anyone else in the immediate area, including the cops.

A woman picked up. “Special Agent Carson.”

“Carson, my name is Michael Cavalcante. I’m a friend of Charley’s.”

“I know who you are.” She had a crisp, firm tone.

“There’s been an abduction.”

“Anyone…special?”

“Very.”

“Where are you?”

“Santa Fe.”

“I’m in Algodones. I can be there in forty minutes.”

“Twenty would be better.”

“Ping me your location. Any cops around?”

He took the phone off speaker and handed it to the officer.

“This is Officer Olivera of the Santa Fe PD.” He paused and glanced back at Michael. “Yes, ma’am. My sergeant is on her way. I understand.” He handed the phone back to Michael and turned to the medical personnel. “Lock it down.”

They complied immediately, locking all the doors in and out of the hospital and making an announcement over the intercom as to why. Missing child. Five years old. Curly, dark hair. Pink hospital gown.

They fitted the nurse with a neck brace and lifted her onto the gurney. Several more medical personnel stood at the end of the hall, peering at the chaos, their faces full of curiosity before Michael caught their attention, and they scrambled off to help with the search.

He had a great glare.

The officer pressed the call button on the mic at his shoulder. “Dispatch, we have a possible abduction. Requesting additional backup. FBI is en route.”

“FBI?” the female dispatcher asked.

“Affirmative.”

“Copy that. Sending additional units to your location. Do you have a description of the parties involved?”

“Just the child.” He repeated the description that had gone out over the intercom. “I’ll update as soon as I have more. And I’ll get a picture over, too.”

“Thank you, Officer.”

A picture. Of course. Izzy’s cell was still in Emma’s room. “I need to get my phone.”

“I’ll go. You sit down.” Michael led her to a cushioned bench and eased her onto it. “Will you be okay here?”

This wasn’t happening. This was simply not happening. How? How did Ross find her? Izzy had moved them over a thousand miles away. Changed her name. Dyed her hair, though she eventually went back to her natural color. How had he found her? How did he know about Emma?

“Izzy?” Michael asked.

They wheeled the nurse past her, and the guilt brewing inside her gurgled and bubbled until she thought she might throw up. First Emma, and now the nurse. “Was she stabbed?”

“The nurse?” Michael watched them turn a corner. “Head wound, from the looks of it.”

Izzy watched through blurred vision. “I did that to her,” she whispered.

“If her life was in danger, she could have run.”

“No,” Izzy said, shaking her head. “She couldn’t have. She would have fought with every cell in her body to stay by Emma’s side like I ordered. My ability brings about a kind of blind devotion. Uncontrollable. Irreversible until the target has followed my orders and fulfilled my request completely. Ross, or whoever he sent, would’ve had no choice but to stop her any way he could.”

“Maybe we need to implement that skill once more.” He nodded toward the cop.

She turned to him. Michael was right. She had to get into the right state of mind. She filled her lungs slowly, lowered her head, and resigned herself to what she was about to do. “Can you get him over here alone?”

Michael glanced at him and then back at her. “Are you okay to do your thing?”

“I’m always okay to do my thing. It’s actually more powerful in times of stress.”

“Then I’ll get him over here.” He stood and walked toward the officer.

He was taking a statement from one of the nurses. “You didn’t see anything?”

“No, sir,” the woman said. She was short and round and reminded Izzy of an apple in her red scrubs.

“Officer, my fiancée has a question, if you don’t mind.”

His fiancée. Our daughter. Why did every word out of his mouth fit so perfectly? Why did they sound so heavenly? So accurate?

“I’ll be right back,” the officer said to the nurse. He walked over and knelt in front of Izzy, concern lining his young face as his partner helped the others search for Emma. “How are you holding up?”

She feigned a weak smile. She had to word this carefully. One slip could drive him insane over the next few days. It was a risk she rarely took anymore. In fact, it had been months since she’d last used her ability. Until she got a knock at two in the morning and fell back into old habits.

She checked his name tag, cleared her throat, and gazed into his rich brown irises. “Officer Olivera, you will forget me asking this and what we’re about to do as soon as the task is complete.”

He didn’t question her. He couldn’t. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t blink. Not until she finished her orders. “You will show us the surveillance footage immediately. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you. That will be all.”

The man blinked and shook his head in confusion, then stood and led them to a small security room with several screens. Michael had taken her arm. It comforted her more than she liked.

“Will he remember any of this?” he asked.

“No.”

“How is that possible? He’ll know he didn’t walk to the security room of his own accord, right?”

“The mind is an amazing thing. It will fill in the blanks with the most logical explanations. How often do you think about why you walked from one room to another?”

He shrugged. “Good point.”

“Once he fulfills my orders and shows us even a microsecond of footage, his mind will pick up where it left off.”

They entered a small room filled with wires and monitors. One security guard sat at a desk, scrolling through footage. “I’ve been looking,” he said, “but so far, no kid in a wheelchair.”

“They took her down almost an hour ago.”

“Gotcha.” He rewound the footage even more, and they watched together until they found a man pushing a wheelchair with a child in it toward a side exit.

“There!” Izzy shouted, pointing at one of the screens. “That’s her.”

The security guard paused the footage as Michael leaned in. “Is that your ex?”

She leaned in, too. Ran her fingers over the frozen screen, trying to touch her daughter’s face. To soothe her. She finally paid attention to the man. Even with the grainy image, she knew it wasn’t him. She shook her head. “It’s not him. But Ross has to be behind it, right?” She looked at Michael. “He could have sent anyone. He has an army.”

“Yeah? Well, my army is bigger.”

“Mine is pretty big, too.”

They turned to see a woman walk in, her short, dark bob framing a pretty face. She wore a navy business suit as crisp as the winter air and sunglasses.

She took them off and turned to the officer. “I’m Special Agent Carson. My partner is checking out the scene.”

They shook hands. “Officer Olivera. We were just going through the surveillance footage.”

She nodded and turned to Michael. “Cavalcante,” she said, her tone curious. Like they knew each other only by reputation. Recognition didn’t flash across either of their faces.

“Carson. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course.” She turned to Izzy. “You’re the mother?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll need a full description, naturally, and pictures if you have any on you.”

“I do. My phone is in the room, though.”

Carson leaned closer to the screen. “Is this him?”

“Yes,” Michael said. “He took her out the east exit.”

The agent turned back to Izzy. “Do you recognize him?”

She shook her head. “This man looks much older.”

“Older than who?”

“She’s been in a…domestic situation,” Michael said. “But that’s not her ex.” He pointed at the monitor.

“That doesn’t mean he didn’t set the whole thing up,” Carson said.

Izzy agreed. “It has to be him. I just don’t know how he found me.”

“I’ll need a name and the last known address.” She turned to the security guard. “Is there any footage of him assaulting the nurse?”

“No, ma’am. There are no cameras in that hall. But we have this of the parking lot.”

They watched as the man wheeled Emma out to an old, beat-up Jeep.

“That’s it!” Izzy said, pointing again. “That’s the vehicle that almost ran me over the other day.”

“You’ve seen this man before?” the agent asked.

“No.” She wanted to cry. Why hadn’t she paid closer attention? “All I saw was the grill as I was jumping out of the way and then the color of the car as it sped past. I never saw the driver.”

The man on the screen lifted Emma out of the wheelchair and put her in the passenger’s seat.

“She looks catatonic,” Izzy said. “She’s such a fighter. Why isn’t she trying to get away?”

“That’s a lot to ask of a child,” Carson said.

Izzy knew that. To expect that of a five-year-old was completely unfair. But this was Emma Walsh they were talking about. She had more gumption than a tween in Sephora. Had the man threatened her? Drugged her? Izzy’s vision darkened again. She pressed a hand to her mouth as the vehicle sped off.

“East toward St. Francis,” the agent said as she stepped out. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Michael eased closer to Izzy. She put a hand in the crook of his elbow. He let her.

The agent filled her partner in and came back. “More agents are on the way, as well as several state troopers. How about we get that phone?”

Izzy nodded and followed her out to the elevators, not loosening her grip on Michael’s arm. She looked at the families as they walked past, some happy, some tired, some worried.

Her world was crumbling at her feet, but everyone around her was going about their business like nothing had happened. A couple laughed at something shared on a phone call. A child tiptoed to get a drink from a water fountain but couldn’t quite reach it. His mother had to lift him. Everyone was just living their lives. No one shattering into a thousand shards of glass.

The agent pushed the button to summon the elevator but stepped away again when she got another call. Five seconds later, she whirled around, her jaw hanging open in astonishment. “We’ve got her.”