“Calvin. What do you want?” She looked at a man only slightly older than herself but whose face and demeanor bore the brunt of a life lived on the edge. Dressed now in a dark suit and tie, he looked more like he was with the Secret Service, and not her father’s right-hand man. His dyed jet black hair, so much like her father’s, was slicked back like a character in a ‘60’s Brylcreem commercial. When she’d arrived home at twelve to discover him living in the guest house and acting as her father’s bodyguard, he’d put her through an hour-long interrogation. He’d demanded she not upset her father while she was home for her Easter week holiday.
“Oh, I’ve got what I want. Or at least some of it.” He pulled out his cell phone and flashed it at her.
She gasped when she saw a picture of Chance at the park. “You. You tried to steal my son?”
“You really should be more careful with him.”
“You bastard.” She flew at him like a lioness attacking her prey. Her nails ripped into his cheek while her heel slammed down on his foot.
He staggered back momentarily with the surprise of the attack, but it didn’t take long for him to react. He grabbed a handful of her short hair and yanked her head backward, arching it at an awkward angle so her neck felt as though it might snap. His other arm wrapped around her waist, clasping her so tightly that she struggled to breathe.
“Where’s your son?”
“I’m not—” She groaned in pain.
“Yes, you will tell me. Where is he?”
She forced her mind to go blank. She knew exactly where her son was but there was no way she was letting him know.
“Why do you want him, Cal?”
“I told you my name is Calvin.”
He punched the third floor button. He wrenched her arm unnaturally behind her, and when the doors opened a moment later, he shoved her into the parkade. She struggled, swinging her free arm back and kicking backward with her left foot. He slammed her into the side of the wall and she crumpled against it, almost sliding to the concrete floor but for his rough hands holding her upright. It was as if someone was flipping overhead lights on and off as objects came into fuzzy focus only to fade again. She tried to shake her head to clear it but before she could, he’d shoved her into his car, strapped her in and speedily wrapped duct tape around her wrists and ankles. She managed to wrench her legs from his grip but her efforts were too little, too late. She tried within her confines to swing about to kick at him but he was too fast, slamming and locking the door on her. She was able to unlock it but he quickly locked it again with the remote control. She realized with sudden clarity the child safety lock was not engaged, but she had no doubt when he was in the driver’s seat, he would immediately employ it.
As soon as he opened his door, she was ready. As he stood with one hand on the driver’s door, she unlocked the door, grabbed the handle with hands still taped together by her wrists and dove out. He sprang into action, grabbing the back of her skirt and yanking her back inside with the power of a backhoe and slammed a beefy fist into the side of her face. Pain exploded in her head. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it registered that her brains had ricocheted against her skull and felt like they were being buffeted about, no longer able to find their rightful place. Despite her mind somewhere in the distance urging her to get moving, she slumped in her seat.
Simultaneously, time stood still and time sped up until they pulled in front of Bobbie’s house. Tarin’s first instinct might have been relief except for the painful memories of all she’d discovered about her friend.
“So, are we going in together for your son?”
“’No.”
“Well, let me—”
“He’s not there.”
He stared at her before turning back around and pulling away. The split second of relief instantly gave way to alarm. Where the hell was he taking her?
She didn’t have long to wait. He parked in the office parking lot. Panic set in when she realized how much he knew. It was also late in the day and traffic had died down, pedestrians had vanished. As soon as he climbed out, she began her struggle, desperately using her teeth to chew at the tape like an animal caught in a trap. Her efforts only tightened the tape, turning it into a twisted rope. She had only managed to pull a few strands out by the time her door was jerked open and she was pulled out. Unable to move quickly enough, she flung her arms out as she felt herself tumbling and sending Cal off balance. With a primal reaction, she snapped her legs straight, propelling herself out the door and driving her shoulder into his stomach. He jerked forward at the waist and she wiggled her body reflexively like a fish violently catapulting through the water. It was enough to send him flying backward.
“Ooomph.” The wind was knocked out of her as she landed hard on top of him. With a superhuman effort, she forced herself to her feet and vaulted toward the car. With Cal still lying on the sidewalk, she grabbed her bag, emptying its contents onto the seat.
Reaching for her phone, she hit the speed dial for the office. “Bill, please answer. Bill, please answer.”
“Hello. Leave your message.”
Her words tumbled over one another. “Please help me. I’m in the parking lot. Cal has me. He wants Chance—”
The connection abruptly ended and a groan behind her served as an urgent reminder that she needed to get moving. She bit into her wraps with the ferocity of a starving coyote. Tiny strands tore into shreds but the binding held.
“Here.”
Her body nearly spasmed at the voice at her ear. She spun around to see Bill’s scruffy beard and a knife he held out to her. She held out her arms and then her legs as he quickly sliced through the tape.
“Thank you.” She jumped to her feet and gave him a quick hug. His cheeks turned ruddy and he ducked his head when she pulled back.
“Ooohhh.” Cal moaned.
“Bill, we’ve got to get him into the office. I need to interrogate him before we turn him over to the police. Can you help me?” Before she could even move, Bill had hefted a still dazed Cal. He rushed into the building and up the stairs like a soldier carrying an injured comrade in the heat of battle.
She quickly strapped Cal to a chair with the same duct tape he’d used on her. Once she ensured he was securely contained, she tossed a glass of cold water in his face.
“What the hell?” he spluttered as his chin came up.
“Glad to see you’re awake, Cal. Now you’re going to give me some answers.”
“Like hell I am.”
Tarin glanced at the closed door where Bill safely had Chance in her office, while she used Graham’s. Though anytime Graham or Guy had a meeting in there, she’d never been able to hear them, she wondered how soundproof the walls really were. As she turned back to Cal, her eyes rolled over the desk phone. She’d arranged it with Bill to call the police as soon as she hit the intercom buzzer.
“Oh, but you are.” She held up Bill’s knife, raking it along Cal’s cheek. “Did my father put you up to this?”
“Yes, it was his idea.”
Okay that sounded like BS.
“What was he hoping to gain?”
“Your child, of course. He always wanted a son. You, if anyone, should know that.”
“But I thought that’s the role you were filling, his prodigal son?”
“I am, in every way that matters.”
“And what did he want with my child?”
“Blood is always thicker,” he spat. His lip curled and his eyes flashed with rage. Spit hung at the corner of his mouth.
“Ah yes. And you’re not really related, are you? You’re just some schmuck my father took off the streets. I guess you didn’t realize you weren’t of any lasting value to him?”
“That’s bullshit!”
“Nope. True. Really? You think you hold a special place in my father’s life?”
“You don’t, you're a girl. He never wanted a girl. Said you were useless to him. He needed an heir. A man.”
“Did he hire you to steal my child?”
But Cal was done. His face was now as red and puffed up as a pressure cooker. She stepped back slowly until she was within an arm’s length of the computer keyboard. “Did he hire you? Or was it your idea so you’d remain the prodigal son?” She clicked record on the laptop. His eyes were focused on the far wall.
“I did everything for him. I was going to save him from a leech he didn’t even know existed.”
Tarin stared at him. His meaning was clear and she struggled with a mother’s wrath at his reference to Chance.
“I’ll make sure he knows the little bugger exists before I do away with the both of them.”
She was tempted to hit the intercom buzzer but couldn’t just yet. She just had to keep herself from strangling the low-life who had dared threaten her son before she got answers.