3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Caleb

"W hat secret weapon are you talking about, Caleb?" She asks, her voice tentative.

"Once, when I was younger, I completely fucked up a deal for my da. For sixteen million dollars. The wire information got screwed up and my da would have murdered me if he got wind of it. A friend of mine at the bank went to the back end and fudged it over, so da would never know."

She chuckles. "A female, I'll assume."

I smile. "Aye." I sniff. "Anyway, she owes me another favor."

"Why, pray tell, would she owe you a favor, Caleb Harris?"

I lick my lips. "That's not important. Anyway, I'll take care of this, so Higgins thinks he's getting the money."

"Good."

"I'll call her right now."

"Let me know how it goes."

"Will do. Love you."

"Love you, too."

I jump on the phone, asking for Freya Stewart, the girl that helped me out of a bind once. She picks up as soon as the receptionist passes me over, answering with her full name, sounding as cheery as if I was a new client calling on her. "Freya, it's Caleb Harris." I open with, surprised that the receptionist didn't pass that information along. I was certain that Freya screened her calls.

The cheeriness immediately disappears. "Caleb. I didn't expect to hear from you."

"No. I imagine not. Nor did I expect to have to call on you."

"Look, Caleb, I'm really busy. I'm about to meet with a client in five minutes."

I'm confused. Sure, the last time I spoke with the lass, she was on her knees, right after I'd returned the favor, but the few trysts that we've had, there has never been any awkwardness before. "Freya, I need a big favor. And you know that I wouldn't call on you unless it was a matter of life or death."

"Caleb, I'm not interested in you anymore. I don't know why you're calling me. It's been months, maybe a year, since we last were in touch."

"Aye, Freya, but that's not why I'm calling you. I really am in a bind." I try to speak quickly, giving her the abridged version of what's going on. "I have a daughter and she's been kidnapped."

"You what?" She practically barks. "My God, Caleb. How many women have you slept with?"

"No, no, it's not what you think, Freya." I sigh quickly, exasperated. "She's my adopted daughter. Her mama died and left her to me." I leave out the part where Laney and I are together, engaged to be married, and expecting a bairn.

Now it's her turn to sigh. "God, Caleb. What do you want."

"She's been kidnapped. The man wants twelve million in ransom. Can you do your magic for me?" I don't want to point out the fact that she owes me a favor, but I'll keep it in my toolbox, just in case.

"Your daughter has been kidnapped, and the first person you call is me?" She asks, disbelieving, like I couldn't tell a better lie.

"No, Freya. I've been on the phone since this happened. I just chased down a man who we thought was the kidnapper, only to find out that it was a fucking decoy. Look, the kidnapper has given me an hour, and he's going to be calling me back any time now. Can you help me?" I ask, realizing that I'd skulked out of recording his banking information, smugly, at the time forgetting about this little bit of genius I had. But Higgins will call back, and he'll give it to me again.

"So, you want me to put my career on the line again for you, do you? God, you Harris boys are all the same, Caleb."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Oh, don't play stupid with me." She chuckles, self-righteously. "I'm sure you went and told your brother just how well I sucked dick, Caleb."

"Nobody knows about you and me, Freya. I swear to it."

"Aye, and I'm sure that your word is your bond, just like you told me the last time you said that you'd call me and you didn't. Just like your brother."

"What brother, Freya? I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, don't play daft with me, Caleb. I know how tight your family is."

I almost squeal. "Freya, I'm telling you, I don't know a fucking thing about what you're talking about." Then it occurs to me. Something that Ethan said to me recently. About me knowing nothing about him and his troubles. That someone had broken his heart. But I dare not say a word about it, in case I'm wrong, or in case Ethan will gut me for even suggesting it.

She gasps, but it's almost like a half chuckle, like she's trying to humor me. "You mean to tell me that he didn't knock your teeth out?"

That's elusive. My brothers and I fight all the time, sometimes my sisters, too, cousins, even an uncle, once an aunt. We Harris family are a feisty bunch. "Who, Freya?" I ask, growing very frustrated, and very impatient. This is the worst possible time to be discussing family politics, when a bairn's life is in the balance. If it weren't for her superior banking skills, and the fact that we're down to the wire, literally, I'd tell her to go piss up a rope and forget the whole fucking thing. But in this case, I don't see how I have a choice.

"Ethan. He found out that you and I fucked around, and he dumped me like a sack of potatoes. Which would have been fine if it hadn't been that he and I already fucked around for months. He'd already told me he loved me."

Fool for her for not fessing up then. Of course, that's what I'm thinking, but I keep my mouth shut. If I want her to help me, it would be in my best interest not to insult her first. "I…I don't know what to say, Freya. I had no idea that you two were seeing each other." I think to myself, shit, were they seeing each other when I was seeing Freya? If so, man, we were both played. But again, I don't say as much. As far as I'm concerned, Freya is old news, and I don't really care, other than for her banking prowess.

"I'm surprised. I figured Ethan would knock your block off."

It occurs to me that this explains a lot. Ethan has had acid in his eyes for me for a while, and clearly it wasn't just my imagination. "Well, maybe he has, he just didn't tell me why. Look, Freya, I really need your help."

"I'm sorry, Caleb." She states, unapologetically, making my lip curl. "I just don't want to get my ass in hot water over this."

"Freya, I'm not kidding you, lass. Someone kidnapped my daughter. And I really need your help." I say with more conviction than I thought I had for her at this point. "Her name is Peg. She's four years old. I just moved her here from Scotland, where her mama died of a drug overdose. Me and my fiancé are raising her."

I can almost hear the brow lift. "Fiance? Wow, Caleb."

"I figured you'd heard. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before the whole world knows about me and Laney."

"Laney? Is this the infamous Laney McAdams?"

I sigh. "Aye. It is. Are you going to help me? Because every minute that I'm on the phone is another minute ticking away at my daughter's life, Freya." That's when my phone rings. I see that it's an unknown number again. So it must be Higgins. "Shit, Freya. What's it going to be? I've got the kidnappers calling me on the other line."

"You know the kidnapper's number?" She chuckles, not buying this story one bit.

"Freya, I'm serious. I need your help."

An indignant scoff. "Caleb, I have no interest in getting involved any further with you or with any member of your family, Kindergartener or otherwise. Why don't you figure this one out on your own for a change." She says and hangs up on me. I stare at the phone, hands shaking in anger and frustration, as the phone beeps again, and I answer it.

"Caleb Harris." I say tersely, like it's one of those goddamn telemarketers.

Higgins's voice is flat, unimpressed. "Where's the money, Caleb?"

"I need more time, dammit!" I growl, softly punching myself in the head. "And I'm still waiting to see Peg, asshole!"

"Whoa. I'll be making the demands here." He says coldly. "Now, what's going on with the money?"

"I told you, you son of a bitch, that I'm not giving you a fucking dime until I have proof that Peg is safe!" I seethe, speaking through my teeth, as the police show up, with a tow bed, and begin the process of pulling Ned's loaner car onto it, while the cops look at me speculatively. I motion to one of them, and he walks over to me, as I place the phone on mute, so Higgins can't hear me, but I can hear him.

"And I told you, I need to see the money first." Wesley argues.

I look at the cop and say quickly. "It's Wesley Higgins on the line."

The officer nods once, as another cruiser shows up, with a man, carrying a briefcase. He's dressed in a casual suit, like he's shown up for a fucking job interview. And all I can think to myself is that he better have some tracing equipment in that goddamn briefcase, or some shit is about to hit the fan.

I turn back to Higgins, touching the mute button first, to disable it. "What's the point in me sending you twelve million dollars, if for all I know, you've already sold her to the fucking black market."

As I stand there, keeping him on the line, I watch the officer open the briefcase on the hood of my car, so quietly it seems like he's done this a million times. He quickly pulls some wires and some sort of transmitter out, and effortlessly attaches it to my phone, not interrupting the conversation one bit.

"You really do have an incredible imagination, Caleb." Higgins says. "But I assure you that Peg is safe."

"I'm afraid I can't take your word for that, Higgins."

His tone is equally snide. "I don't see how you have a choice, Harris."

That's when I see it. My da's truck pulling up to the scene, with my brother Ethan inside. My fist immediately balls up despite my efforts to keep calm. Two more police cruisers have arrived, cordoning off the area where the car is being hauled onto the flatbed. The officer with the briefcase has an earpiece, and he's listening to the conversation. He's also got a notepad and pen in hand, and he's scrawling something on it. I read the script, which says, ‘keep him talking for at least sixty seconds.'

I roll my eyes. I'm almost at the end of my rope. But I have to keep my head in this for Peg. And for Laney. If anything happens to either of them, my life is effectively over. For they mean the world to me.

"I have a choice, Wesley, and so do you. You let me talk to Peg and I'll see that you get your twelve million dollars."

"Something tells me you're buying time, Caleb. I don't like that. You're playing me and I don't like to be played."

"I assure you there is no playing going on here." I lick my lips. "But I confess I do need your banking information again."

He laughs mirthlessly. "I knew it. You're talking to the cops, aren't you."

"What the fuck would give you that impression." I spit back, lying through my fucking teeth, and feeling not at all bad about it.

Briefcase cop points at his watch, indicating that he still needs more time. He lifts up two fingers and then makes a zero with his index finger and thumb, showing me that he needs twenty more seconds.

"Because you're stalling, you asshole. What, do you think this is my first rodeo?"

"I think it is, actually." I chuckle mirthlessly. "I've been around the block enough times to know the pros from the schmucks."

"Ditto, cowboy. I'd say you're pretty green behind the ears, too. You think I don't know you've got a tap on your phone right now? You think I don't know that a cop is standing right next to you, telling you he needs another twenty seconds?"

My face falls. I look around. So does briefcase cop. He's fucking here. He can see us, the motherfucker. "Where are you, you son of a bitch." I say, in a guttural growl.

He chuckles slyly. "Oh, you're slick, Caleb. But, that's for me to know and you to find out. I don't give up so easily." He clicks off before I can get his banking information, and I look at briefcase cop, as he's feverishly punching into the screen of what looks like another phone. I wait patiently, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down my temple.

"Got him." briefcase cop says, and then he speaks into the radio on his shoulder, giving them the coordinates.

Ethan arrives next to me, and I don't hold back, as my fist rises and delivers a clean, nose crushing punch to his face, literally driving him to the ground. "You son of a bitch!" I shout at him, as though he's the kidnapper.

"What the fuck!" He screams, although his scream is muffled by his hands cupping his face.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me about Freya Stewart, you asshole! You might have just cost me Peg's life!"

Da pulls me away from him, as I'm about to kick him in the ribs. "Caleb! Get a hold of yourself! What's going on!"

"Freya Stewart could have tricked Wesley Higgins into thinking that he was going to get his ransom, but fuckhead here fucked around with her and didn't tell me! So, here I am, making like all is fine and dandy, meanwhile she wants to see us all dead because of Ethan!"

More cops have arrived. The place looks like a Hollywood movie scene, with flashing lights, squawking of radios, bleeping of sirens, the whole works. Bodies are running towards a building off the freeway, as I berate my brother over his stupidity, while my da tries to calm me down.

"Stop this nonsense, Caleb! Fighting over a lass when the bairn is in trouble! Focus, son!" Da shouts, holding my shoulders firmly with both his hands, as Ethan gets up and dusts himself off. I'm sure I broke his nose, as it's swollen and bleeding. My best work yet.

When we hear the shout and the gunshot is when our gazes dart over to the site of the blast. I bolt, fearing the worst, feeling my heart beat out of my chest, forgetting about my shithead brother and how he fucked things up for me and Peg. As I get to the building, I'm stopped, dead in my tracks, by a police officer on watch. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you in there, while officers are doing their job, sir."

"But my daughter is in there! He's got my daughter!" I plead.

"Nothing has been confirmed yet, sir. Please stand back and let the police do their jobs."

I strain to hear her little cry, her little voice, any shred of evidence that Peg is inside the building, safe and unharmed. I know that if there is so much as a scratch on her, that I'll kill Wesley Higgins. I will kill him. Mark my words. But I hear nothing. I see, from the lobby, that the elevator is on service, meaning that Higgins is on one of the floors. The building is only four floors, half empty, as it's a newer complex, inhabited by businesses, not lived in, and it appears to be on lockdown, even though there are zero cars in the parking lot. How the hell Higgins set up camp here so fast is beyond me. And then I realize that Ned must have been in on this, after all. "The vagrant. It's a scam. He had to have been in on it."

"How's that?" The cop asks, folding his arms across his chest, contemplatively.

"How else would he have known to stop here? Right in front of the building where his partner is?"

"With all due respect, sir, the police had to take him down, along with some of your own men."

The lightbulb goes off. I look around. I see one of my suits get into a car across the way, nonchalantly, with someone I don't recognize, but I can only presume it's Nathan Mackenzie, the man caught in Laney's security video. "Hey!" I shout. "Stop!"

And I swear to God I see her. Her sweet little face, pressed up against the back window, for a split second.

…but it disappears just as fast.