Cold Comfort (36 page)

A tiny
tink
sounded. Riley's phone. "Yeah?"

His expression said bad news. The jerk as he stepped on the gas said urgent.

"Jesse. The bad guys have Frieda and Darwin. Will can't get away yet, but Jesse and his guys will meet us."

"Where does she live?"

"Falls Church. Hang on." He looked, ran the light.

"Tell me about Jesse. Was he in the Navy with you?"

"National Guard—long range surveillance. Will knew him, asked him to join Maleantes when he got home from Iraq." Riley shot through a yellow light.

She could see the mix of concentration and impatience in his face.

* * *

Claire was silent as they sped through the snow.

"There they are." Riley parked the dark gray Pontiac beside the rental Jesse was now driving.

Jesse was out and beside Riley's door before the window opened fully.

Riley spoke first. "Is there a safe place around here to leave Claire? I don't want her in this."

Jesse scanned the area, his expression grim. "Sorry, no. Rough neighborhood. And we need both cars. She can stay in the back on the floor." He waved to her.

"But it's Claire they're after. We'll be taking her right to them."

"Sorry. No choice. Frieda called again." Jesse, hands on his hips, looked down, kicked a little snow, and cleared his throat. "They made her scream, then cut the connection."

Claire's hand flew to her mouth, covering her cry. Not Frieda, that tiny little woman, or Mr. Darwin. "Just go," she said. "I'll stay hidden
—
whatever you want."

Jesse gave her an approving nod. "Right. We'll have to try to circle the house. None of us has been there, but Will said it's a small house, one story, on a cul-de-sac with a lot of trees and shrubs in the yard. Good for us, better for them. Maybe we can come in from behind it. They'll be waiting for us." He signaled to the two men in his car.

They got out and came around to Claire's side, leaned down to look in her window.

"I want you to recognize them," Jesse explained.

"Hi. I'm Angelino."

She nodded and held out her hand. No wonder they called him Angel. Dark and Italianate, he might have been a fallen angel—Lucifer, she thought as he shook her hand.

"I'm Cutter," the other one said.

Cutter had a boy-next-door look, but when he winked and grinned at her, she guessed he was the one who wanted to play doctor behind the garage. She shook his hand too. Angelino was all business, but Cutter held onto her hand until Riley reached over and pulled it back.

Cutter laughed at him. These men obviously knew each other well. Claire wondered what they'd been through together.

Riley slid out and joined the men as Jesse spread a map and a sketch on the car hood. "This is the layout Will described. We'll stop here at this park
—
it's only a block away
—
and I'll try to circle around to the house, see if I can tell where they've got Frieda and Darwin. If I can't, we'll go in from all sides at once. They'll be expecting us at the back. You take the front," he said to Riley.

Riley nodded. Jesse and his men got in the SUV and took off. Riley and Claire followed in the Pontiac.

She pictured the men breaking into the house, thought about Frieda and Mr. Darwin
—
they had almost certainly seen the men, would be able to identify them. "Will they kill them?" The idea made her ill. "Tell me the truth."

He looked over at her. "Yes. As soon as they don't need them anymore."

"Hurry." She tightened her seat belt. "Why don't you call the police? Couldn't they get there faster?"

Riley spared her a glance. "Probably, but it would sign Frieda and Darwin's death warrants. The cops can't go in shooting on the strength of a phone call
—
you don't know who might get hurt. But we might be able to save them."

"Oh." What could she say? They'd all do what they had to.

When they neared the park, Riley stopped and reached under the seat, removing a small pistol. "This is a Walther PPK. It's a .32 caliber, light and easy to handle." He checked it, snicked a round into the chamber, and handed it to her. "It's ready. There's an internal safety that won't let you fire accidentally. You have to pull the trigger." He pointed out each part, making sure she understood. "Be careful, but don't hesitate. Shoot into the air if you need help. You've got seven shots." He reached up and removed the bulb from the interior light, then kissed her. "Now get in the back on the floor and stay down. They'll kill you if they get a chance."

"Just get Frieda and Mr. Darwin." She held the gun awkwardly as she climbed over the seat. She thought she could shoot it, but holding it was different from watching someone do it on a big screen. Riley drove on for a couple of blocks, then stopped again. From the floor, she could see bare treetops through the falling snow. "Is this it?"

"Yes," he said without looking at her. "I'm leaving the keys in the ignition, but I'll be back." She heard the locks click, the door close, and he was gone.

She waited, heard only silence. Waited longer. This was so far outside her experience
—
she could hardly believe it was happening. Riley's world, a world she could never fit into. She felt like an albatross, some terrible responsibility he couldn't escape. Knowing him, she thought he'd regret having slept with her. She'd have to do something, say something, to let him off the hook.
No regrets.

When she let herself think, she knew she'd never feel this way about anyone else. How could it have gone this far? They were so different. Riley would never be happy tied to someone like her, and even if he cared about her now, he wouldn't for long, not when she couldn't fit in and he had to chose between her and his friends. He would come to resent her. She had to let him go, much as she would an animal from the wild.

A faint noise came from the park. She snapped to attention, pushed her musings aside. How long since Riley left? She squinted at her watch but couldn't see in the dim light.

She strained to hear. Footsteps, lurching, uneven, drew closer. Her hands shook as she lifted the gun, the pounding of her heart almost drowning out the noise outside.

"Claire," a weak voice cried. "Help me."

A face, dark with blood, showed briefly against the window, and then she heard him fall.

"Jesse!" She shoved the gun in her jacket pocket and scrambled up from the floor. He lay sprawled beside the car. She unlocked the door and jumped out, reaching for him.

From behind, someone grabbed her hair, jerking her upright. A man's gloved hand clamped tightly over her mouth, holding her against him. Cold metal pressed hard against her temple. "Shut...up"—the man's breath came in short gasps—"or I'll...shoot you now."

In spite of his labored breathing, she was sure the voice belonged to Tony Trapp. "That wasn't Jesse's voice at the window, it was yours. What have you done to him?"

"Nothing except carry him here. I knew that stupid shit would bring you here, and you'd open the door when you saw this guy." Trapp nodded at Jesse and twisted her arm up behind her. She kicked at him, rammed her elbow into his stomach.

"Uh," he grunted, and slapped her across the face. "Get in the car." Giving her arm a vicious jerk, he shoved her across the seat, smacking her head on the far window, and jumped in after her.

"What are you doing?" She dragged her feet over the console and pulled herself up in the seat.
The gun, where was the gun?
She glanced down. Out of the corner of her eye she saw it on the floor. It must have fallen out of her pocket. She had to distract him. "What happened to Jesse? Where are you taking me?"

"I said shut up." He kept his gun in his hand and started the car, floored it when the engine caught. He spun the wheel and the car slipped, then shot forward.

"Watch out for Jesse—don't hit him!"

She barely saw the butt of Tony's gun swing toward her.

Chapter 25

Riley heard a car stop in front of the house.

Will jumped out and ran to the door. "How's Frieda?"

"Better than he is," Riley said, pointing to the kitchen where a man huddled in a chair, holding a bloody towel against his neck. "She stabbed him with a meat fork when we hit the door."

Will squatted in front of the little woman in the other chair, gently wrapping his arms around her. "Frieda, can you talk? Tell me what happened."

"Of course I can talk. He broke my fingers, but he didn't know I'm left-handed." She held up her good hand, wiggled her fingers. "When I saw Riley at the front window, I grabbed the fork off the table and let him have it."

"That's my girl." Will kissed her. "What about Darwin? Where's he?"

"He tried to protect me when they first got here, gallant old fool. One of those nasty men, the one in charge, threatened him with a knife, but Ronald wouldn't back down. There were three of them. One of the others hit him from behind. Ronald's in the bathroom." Her eyes glittered in her colorless face.

Will said to Riley, his voice hard, "How bad is he?"

"Probably a concussion. It bled a lot, and he was sick. Angel's with him, waiting for the ambulance."

Will kept his hand on Frieda's shoulder. "Where's Jesse?"

"I don't know," Frieda said. "He went after the one who broke my fingers."

Riley turned as Cutter barged in the back door, shoving a cuffed man in front of him. "You see Jesse?"

"No." Cutter kicked the man's feet out from under him. "Sit down, asshole." He turned back to Will and Riley. "A black Mercedes parked two doors away just took off. I couldn't see much."

"Find Jesse. I'll stay here until the ambulance comes," Will told him.

Riley, already edging toward the door, said, "From Frieda's description, I think Tony Trapp might have been the one who broke her fingers—she said he smiled when he did it. Stahl is probably the one with the knife. I don't know these two. I've got to get back to Claire. She's around the corner at the park."

Will frowned. "Where? Didn't you all come together?"

"No." Riley froze in the doorway. He thought his heart stopped. "She was with me."

"Only car I saw was the SUV. No Pontiac."

Riley ran.

The police turned into the cul-de-sac just ahead of the ambulance, lights flashing, and pulled up as Riley dodged toward the street.

When he passed the bushes at the corner of Frieda's yard, Cutter stepped out. Riley called over his shoulder, "My car's gone."

"So's Jesse." Cutter tore after him.

Running hard, Riley rounded the corner on the next block and stopped short beside Jesse's SUV. "Nothing here." He sped off to the corner, his heart pounding with dread. Where was Claire?

Cutter came up beside him. "What's that, in the snow down the block?"

Both men raced for the dark shape at the side of the road. Jesse lay on his side, still.

Riley dropped to one knee to examine the limp figure. "He's alive. Get that ambulance."

Cutter pressed a number into his phone. "Jesse's down." He gave their location, listened, and said, "Bad. Hurry."

Riley pressed his handkerchief against Jesse's side and scanned the area He spotted the tire tracks, the fishtail departure. No sign of the car. Or Claire. "They're gone. If you saw Stahl leave in the other one, Trapp must have Claire." He shouldn't have brought her here.
Think, dammit!
Where would Trapp have taken her?

"Will called for an ambulance."

Red lights flashed around the corner. The white van cut in beside them. Paramedics leaped out and took over from Riley. "We've got him."

Will's car slid to a stop behind the ambulance. He went straight to Jesse. "Hang on,
amigo
." He turned to Cutter. "Take Frieda to the hospital in Jesse's car. There's not enough room in the ambulance for everyone. They'll take Darwin and Jesse. Angel's dealing with the cops." He touched his friend's shoulder once more and then stood. "Riley?"

Riley nodded. "It's time to meet the senator. He's the only lead we've got to Claire."

The two men ran for Will's car and drove in silence. Fear and guilt rode beside Nadia and Claire in Riley's head like the four horsemen.

Will cut the engine and coasted to a stop on Stillwater Row. "This will be tough. Jennings is just recovering from surgery."

"He slept all afternoon, according to Trapp, but I'll call first. I won't break down his door unless I have to." Riley surveyed the dark house as he punched in the number. "I don't think he'll want to call the police when I tell him I know about Claire." It rang several times before he got an answer.

"Senator," Riley said, "I'm sorry to wake you, but it's important that I see you now. It's about Claire Spencer." He gave his name, then covered the phone with his hand. "I was right. Trapp's not there
—
he would have answered."

He listened briefly.