22

I couldn't imagine my mother carted off in some white van to god knows where. If I did, I would be lying in a fetal position right now. But I had to keep it together, find her, and then I could break down.

Jake drove us to her apartment, where Will and Jager met us. Jake, Will, and I searched the rooms with latex gloves, mindful not to touch anything before the police arrived. We looked inside every closet and every drawer. Jager sat at the dining room table typing furiously on his laptop.

"What's he doing?" I asked Jake.

"He's looking through Christian's files for your mother's itinerary and contacts. Someone in her office might know where they are."

I nodded and looked around the apartment.

There was nothing; not one shred of evidence that we could see that pointed to where my mother and Christian had gone.

Jake's phone rang. "Hello?... Yes, we'll be right down." He turned to Will. "The building's security has the footage ready for us. Nikole and I will take a look. I'll call you if there's anything worth looking at."

Will nodded and resumed searching.

Jake grabbed my hand, and we raced to the elevator. Each floor down to the security office felt like an eternity. My stomach shriveled into a lump of coal and my hands shook, despite Jake's hold.

"She's going to be alright."

He didn't know that. He couldn't be sure of it. My leg started to bounce and when the elevator doors opened, I ran out, but Jake maneuvered himself quickly to overtake my steps, protecting me with his body. I'd grown so used to it now that our footsteps were nearly in sync.

"Mr. Devereux, in here, sir." Down the narrow, carpeted hallway, a man in uniform stood in front of an office door.

Jake followed me into the room and motioned for me to sit in the chair in front of the computer screen. "Is it cued up?"

"Yes, sir."

"All right, start it."

The man hit a button and the black-and-white video played. Two men, average size, entered my mother's floor through the stairwell. Since it was the sixteenth floor, it was quite a climb up.

They stood in front of her door and looked both ways before using a key card to get inside.

"Where did they get the key from?" asked Jake.

"I don't know," replied the baffled guard.

I didn't take my eyes off the screen. A few minutes later, one of the men walked out carrying my mother over his shoulder and left through the stairwell door.

"Oh god," I whispered as I saw her lifeless body.

"She's not hurt. Only drugged," Jake said, his hand on my shoulder.

How could he know that? He was only trying to make me feel better.

I couldn't erase the image from my mind. I'd never seen my mother so defenseless. She was the strongest person I knew.

After exiting through the stairwell, the hallway was empty.

"That's it," said the guard. "There's nothing else after this."

"What do you mean?" asked Jake. "Where's her bodyguard? They must have carried him out, too. He's not in the room."

The man's face grew confused. He shook his head and moved the video forward. "As you can see, there's nothing else until the other two bodyguards arrive hours later."

What the hell?

"Go back twenty minutes from when the men entered from the stairwell. I want to see what was happening on the governor's floor."

"Nothing unusual," said the guard, reaching down to press a different button that retraced the footage.

"There," Jake pointed to the screen. "Who's that?"

"That's our room service. We have a few residents we cater to. The governor orders coffee and a bagel for herself and her bodyguard every morning at the same time before heading to work. There's nothing unusual about that."

Jake stood back with his arms crossed, staring at the screen. "Every day?"

"Yes," replied the security guard. "It's in our notes."

"Who else knows about this?"

"Only me and the kitchen staff."

"I need to see a list of those on staff. And can you zoom in on the delivery man's face?"

The guard moved the mouse around and clicked on the man's face. The screen was a bit blurry, but there was something that seemed familiar about the older gentleman.

Jake leaned closer, his head just above mine. "That's the guy who answered Chapman's door," he whispered.

Fear shot through my heart. It stood frozen in my chest, turning my blood cold.

I shook my hands when they started to tremble, and Jake held me from behind. "Shh, don't panic. Don't panic. We've got time."

"Time for what?"

"The first forty-eight hours are the most crucial in a kidnapping. We've got time."

"Regarding the other bodyguard, I just had an idea." The security guard went to the filing cabinet and pulled out a legal-size paper. "All the rooms on this floor have safe rooms inside the walk-in closets. They're not very big. They're meant to store larger items like suitcases, but I believe you could fit a person inside there if you had to."

Jake grabbed the paper from the man's hands and examined it. "Show us how to get inside."

We hurried out of the office and back into the elevator. Jake put his arm over my shoulder and pulled me against his chest. My body trembled from fear and overwhelming worry.

These men were dangerous. They weren't afraid to shoot or had any fear of the law. I'd seen that firsthand.

We walked back to my mother's room and both Will and Jager looked up when they saw us with the guard.

"What's going on?" asked Will.

"Just pray that Christian isn't as big as we think he is."

Will's face scrunched up, but both he and Jager followed us into my mother's bedroom.

Inside there was a large walk-in closet. The guard moved the hanging robes and ironing table to the side and exposed a paneled door. It was camouflaged by the same color paneled walls along the closet. He used his key, and the door opened.

Inside, a man sat tied up in the fetal position, his mouth, legs, and arms bound. His eyes rolled when the door opened. He groaned when the light hit his face and turned his body to look away.

"Thank god," whispered Jake beside me. "He's all right."

Christian looked pale, but otherwise had no visible bruises or cuts. The man was at least six feet tall and weighed more than 200 pounds. His expensive suit stretched across his muscled arms. Drugging the man was the only way anyone would have taken him down.

Jake removed the gag from Christian's mouth and began untying his arms. "They took the governor," he said, his words a bit slurred.

"We know," Jake replied, throwing the rope aside and starting on his legs. "Did they say anything about where they were taking her?"

Christian shook his head, then grabbed it with both hands. "Fuck, that hurts."

"They drugged you. Did you drink the coffee?"

He nodded, but barely, still holding his head. "Fuck," he said again. "I don't fucking believe this. How did I let this happen?"

"They drugged you, brother. It's not your fault. It could have happened to anyone."

"Yeah, but it happened to me. We've got to go after them." Christian tried to get up, but his leg caved underneath him. Jake steadied him back to the floor.

"Easy tiger. You're going to have to wait until whatever's in your system passes."

Christian groaned and banged his head against the wall and then groaned louder.

If the coffee affected a large man like Christian this badly, I didn't want to think how my mother was feeling. Was she even awake yet? A part of me hoped she would be unconscious for most of the ordeal. They couldn't torture an unconscious woman, could they?

"How did you know Christian was in this room?" asked Will.

Jake explained what we saw in the video and then how the guard remembered this room.

"If they carried the governor down the stairwell and outside, they must have had a car waiting. Where are the cameras outside of the building, especially the one outside this stairwell?" asked Will.

"I can find out," said the guard.

Will nodded. "I'll come with you. Once I have the license plate of the vehicle, we can ask the police to put out an APB on the car."

"That's a good idea," said Jager, and Jake nodded as well.

Will and the guard left the room, leaving Jake, Jager, Christian, and me inside the walk-in closet.

"Thirsty," croaked Christian.

"I'll get you something," said Jager. After he left the room, Christian groaned again.

"I should have never had a coffee. I was on duty."

"You should have told us about the room," said Jake.

Christian rolled his eyes. "I never thought I would be the one in it, damn it."

Jake's voice was soothing. "Stop blaming yourself, brother. This isn't your fault." But Christian's eyes dropped, and he balled his fists. I knew he wouldn't forgive himself anytime soon. Ironically, I wasn't even angry with him. Jake was right. He couldn't have known the coffee was drugged; my mom had been receiving room service for weeks, and somehow, those men had found out about it.

"My mom had mentioned something about an incident at one of her fundraisers. A man shouting from the back. Do you recall this?" I asked Christian. I was embarrassed to note that I hadn't paid much attention when she told me about this, thinking it was just another example of changing the subject back to her whenever I told my mother about my day. If I had a bad day, hers was always worse.

He frowned, then nodded. "Yeah. This was a couple of weeks ago. The guy yelled about how she was ruining the country or something like that. The event security tossed him out, saying he was a regular. He hadn't tried to approach her, just interrupted the event. At the time, I didn't think it was specific to the governor."

"Maybe not," I said, trying to piece this all together.

"But someone knew which event she would be speaking at, where she lives, and even her most mundane routines." I stood and paced the bedroom. "Someone knew my mother well enough to know when she took a coffee break. It had to be someone close to her."

A thought popped into my head. I looked up at Jake, my heart in my throat. He stared back at me with confusion in his eyes, not following my train of thought. Perhaps I was all over the place, but it made sense in my head.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Her personal assistant would know all of those things."

"Yes, but isn't her PA a woman? I think I remember her from the photo op at the mayor's office," said Jake.

I frowned. "You're right. But it's worth asking her some questions, I think."

"Who are you guys talking about?" Jager returned with a water bottle and passed it to Christian, who drank greedily.

Still watching me, Jake responded. "Nikole believes her mother's personal assistant may know who the kidnapper is."

Jager rubbed his lips together and crossed his arms. "She would have access to her schedule and know where the governor is at all times. She would be a good source if you wanted to get close to the governor." He turned to me and nodded his head. "Good thinking."

Christian tried to stand up again. "I have files of all the governor's employees on our system. I'll—" he staggered and Jake caught him.

"I'll go retrieve the files," said Jager, and left the room.

I followed Jager into the dining room. He booted up the computer and asked, "What's the assistant's name?" he asked while typing.

I tried remembering if my mother had mentioned her. She probably had. I was ashamed I hadn't paid more attention. "I don't know."

He didn't reproach me about it. He simply shouted, "Hey, Chris! What's the PA's name?"

"Donovan. Maxine Donovan," Christian rasped from behind us. Jake carried Christian into the living room with an arm under his shoulder and helped him to the couch. He loosened his tie and pushed his hair out of his eyes. It was a simple gesture, but it demonstrated how Jake assumed his role as protector beyond his clients and my feelings for him grew.

"Got it," Jager said, bringing my attention back to the screen.

"You found her background check?"

"Yes," he said, while scrolling down through a document. "Looks clean."

"We should go speak to her now. She's probably working at my mother's office," I said, turning to Jake. He nodded and stood up from the couch. But Christian grabbed his hand.

"She called in sick today. I remember the governor groaning about that."

"Where does she live?" asked Jake.

Jager wrote down an address on the pad next to my mother's laptop. Tearing it off, he handed it to me. "You driving?" he asked.

Jake snatched the paper from his hand. "I'm driving." He looked at me with a frown and shook his head. "Don't give me that look. You're coming with me. I know better now than to try and leave you out of this."

Despite my nerves, I couldn't help but smile. This man got me.

"Jager, you stay here with Christian. Find out what you can about this personal assistant. I want to be prepared when we show up at her place unannounced."

"Yes, sir," smiled Jager. "You were always the logistics guy."

Watching the guys mess with each other loosened some of the tension in my shoulders. They had been through a lot together and despite the unpredictable situation, they were in control and taking action. I admired that. It was how I wanted to live my life, fully in control.

I hopped into Jake's truck and he took off as soon as I clicked on my seatbelt. He didn't speed, but he passed slow cars and pressed the gas pedal when the lights turned yellow.

An hour had passed since we discovered my mother was missing. According to Christian, it had been two hours since he recalled drinking the coffee. They couldn't have gone very far by car. We could still catch up to them.

I repeated my little pep talk the entire car ride across town.

Jake finally turned into a quiet neighborhood just outside of the city. The homes were not large, but they were detached with single-car garages. He pulled into house number eighty-six. "This is it."

He turned to me, and his shoulders slumped. "Is there any chance I can convince you to stay in the car?"

"None," I said without hesitation.

He sighed. "That's what I thought."

He checked his weapon inside its holster and grabbed my hand. "Let's go."

We walked up the driveway, onto the porch, and Jake rang the doorbell. It was a musical ringtone. I hadn't heard one of those since I was a kid.

An older woman with thin white hair pulled into a bun answered the door. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, hi," I answered first. "I'm the governor's daughter. I was hoping to speak with her personal assistant, Maxine Donovan. Is she home?"

The woman's face beamed. "Yes. Maxine's my daughter. She's feeling a little under the weather today." Then, sizing up Jake and his looming figure, she asked, "Is there a problem?"

"You could say that," Jake answered, crossing his arms.

The woman didn't know what to make of his reply, furrowing her brow.

I cut in. "Can we speak to your daughter, ma'am?"

"Yes, of course." She turned toward the staircase behind her and shouted, "Maxine!"

A skinny, red-haired woman with her hair in a messy bun atop her head showed up at the top of the staircase. Her eyes rounded when she saw me, and she gulped. After some hesitation, she climbed down the staircase slowly, one measured step at a time.

"Hi," she said, in a small voice, her gaze fluttering between me and her mother. Not once did she make eye contact with Jake. Frankly, his face was a bit terrifying at the moment, as though he could tear her apart limb from limb.

Strangely, I felt sorry for her. I didn't know her story yet, but this couldn't possibly be the woman who set my mother up.

"Ma'am, can we speak to your daughter alone? Government business and all."

"Oh, yes, yes, of course." She patted her chest. "I have some work to do in the kitchen, so I'll just be around back."

I wasn't sure how far the kitchen was from the front foyer, but I didn't think we should venture very far if I wished for any answers.

"Can we come in?" I asked Maxine after her mother left.

She moved out of the way for us to step inside. I kept my gloves and hat on. The weather had grown cold overnight and there were some flurries in the air.

"You recognized me?" I asked, although I already knew her answer.

She nodded.

"Do you know where my mother is?" I asked gently, as I would a skittish child, even though I couldn't be more than four years older than her.

"She, um, she's in her office, I assume. She had no meetings booked for today."

Jake crossed his arms, and I felt the tension roll off of him like a Mack truck. Maxine gulped again.

It was a risk, but I was pretty good at reading people. I knew when to push witnesses on the stand and when to give them some space. Right now, Maxine needed space.

I placed my hand on Jake's arm. "Don't mind him. He's my bodyguard. He won't hurt you unless you make a move for me. But we're just talking, right?"

Maxine raised her eyes cautiously to look at Jake, then turned back to me. "Right."

"So, Maxine. How long have you known Ed Chapman?"

Maxine's eyes widened, then her mouth opened and closed a couple of times before she shook her head. "I-I don't know who you're talking about."

I sighed. She knew him. It was written all over her face.

"I'm sure you know this, Maxine, but I'm an attorney. I can subpoena you to tell me the truth. This can get nasty in a courtroom, or you can tell me where my mother is now. If you cooperate, I'll put a good word in with the District Attorney for you."

"The DA!" She shook her head violently this time. "But I didn't do anything. I—"

"You what?" asked Jake, and Maxine threw him a worried look.

"You were only helping your boyfriend?" I asked.

This time, Maxine's shoulders dropped, and she closed her eyes. "How did you know?"

"I didn't." But I had guessed by the terrified look in her eyes that she had been harassed by Chapman, maybe even worse than that. If he were a stranger to her, she probably would have been relieved to tell someone about it. But if he were a boyfriend, she would feel some twisted sense of loyalty to him.

A tear fell down her cheek and she wiped it away hastily. "I didn't know what he was planning. He said he was just going to scare her so she would bury the bill. But he kept taking it further and further. Then today, I—"

She pressed her lips together and shook her head.

"What happened today?" I asked.

"I went into the office as usual, but the governor stopped answering her emails a few hours ago. I tried calling her but nothing. Then I called Ed. And when he didn't answer, I didn't know what to think. So, I went to his trailer, but he wasn't there. Then I came home. I've been trying to get a hold of him and the governor, but I can't."

"Why didn't you call the police?" I asked.

"And say what? I have no idea what he's done or even if he's involved."

"You could have called me."

She ran her hands through her hair, messing up the bun further. "I know that now, but a few hours ago, I thought I was overreacting. Besides, the governor had a bodyguard. Ed couldn't have gotten close to her."

"He did. He kidnapped her."

Maxine's face shriveled up and her bottom lip trembled, then she began to cry in earnest. "Oh god. Oh god."

I grabbed Maxine and gathered her in my arms. "Maxine, I need you to keep it together, all right? I need you to help us find my mother. Where would Ed have taken her?"

Maxine clutched my coat and wailed on my shoulder. "I don't know. I don't know."

Jake's phone rang, and he answered it.

"Jager? Have you got something?"

Jake nodded. "All right. Text me the address. Thanks, Jager."

"What is it?" I asked when Jake ended the call.

"One of Jager's police contacts just called him. They found the car outside of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Wellington. It used to be the old chicken farm there."

Maxine sucked in a breath.

"Do you know it?" I asked.

She nodded. "My father and Ed's uncle used to work there together. That's how we knew each other. They're friends. But they both lost their jobs when the farm shut down nearly a year ago."

Jake nodded. Yes, it sounded like it would be the perfect place to bring my mother.

"Let's go," said Jake, and Maxine stopped him with a hand on his arm. He stared at it pointedly.

"I should come," she said.

He shook off her touch. "I don't think so."

"Jake, that might not be a bad idea," I said.

He shook his head in disbelief. "It's a terrible idea. The worst idea ever, in fact. I don't want to bring you to this right now. Why would I bring another civilian?"

"Because she might be the only person who could reason with him."

We both stared at Maxine with her large eyes, red cheeks, and trembling hands. As much as I wanted her to stay back, she could be the only one to stop Chapman from hurting my mother. If he hadn't done so already. But I knew it was a risk bringing a terrified person into a hostile situation. Anything could go wrong.

"You're both staying in the car," Jake warned.

I kept my face blank, and he swore softly. "Why do I even bother arguing? Get in the car."

I shrugged. I wasn't sure why he still argued with me about this.

Maxine grabbed her coat. "Mom, I'm heading out. Be back soon."

Her mother scurried back into the foyer. "All right. Should I set the table for an extra two tonight?"

I shook my head. "No, thanks, Ms. Donovan. I'm hoping to have dinner with my mother tonight."