The Stolen Girl Page 5

The little girl got to her feet and threw her arms around his neck. “Daddy!”

  Suddenly feelings Axel never knew he could have surged through him. The kind of feelings a normal father would feel.

  Peering over his shoulder she caught sight of Draco. “That man was mean to me.”

  “He’s my friend.”

  “That’s what he said. Are you sure about that?”

  She sounded like her mother. “Yes. I’m sure. He’s sorry for what he did, and he promises not to do it again.”

  Axel heard Draco cuss under his breath in disgust.

  Imogen didn’t look like she believed him, but she had other things on her mind.

  “Daddy, I’m hungry. And I have to go to the bathroom.”

  “Okay. Let’s do something about that.” With a glare in Draco’s direction, Axel took his daughter by the hand and led her down the hall to the bathroom.

  The small cavity halfway down the hall was as dirty as the rest of the place, so he did some cleaning up, and made sure the seat was down before he let her in.

  “There, honey. Let me know when you’re finished. I’ll be right out here.” He closed the door.

  “Honey?” Draco sneered. “I thought you didn’t give a crap about the kid.”

  “She’s my flesh and blood.”

  “She’s a bargaining chip,” he corrected. “And she’d better not try to climb out the bathroom window.”

  “She won’t.” Axel crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Draco, stunned by the protective emotions surging through him.

  After a moment he heard the sound of flushing, then of water running as the little girl washed her hands.

  He opened the door.

  Her eyes flashed. “I’m not done, Daddy.” She wiped her hands on the wrinkled towel.

  “C’mon,” Axel said to her. “Let’s see what Uncle Draco has to eat.”

  As they headed for the kitchen, Draco looked as if he were about to smack him for that title.

  Chapter Ten

  “Don’t you have any decent food in here?” Axel pulled a carton of milk from Draco’s fridge and sniffed it. It smelled like moldy socks.

  He stepped over to the sink and poured it down the drain.

  Draco sat at the kitchen table next to Imogen, watching her as if he thought she might bolt any minute.

  “Sorry my place doesn’t meet with your approval,” he grumbled. “I’m not a five-star hotel, you know.”

  Ignoring him, Axel went back to the fridge and found a package of hotdogs. “This will do.”

  He found a frying pan, washed it out, and began to cook the meat. From a drawer, he grabbed a spatula and turned the dogs.

  “Didn’t know you were such a chef,” Draco sneered.

  “They let me cook when I did time.”

  Imogen frowned. “What does ‘did time’ mean?”

  “It means he was in jail,” Draco said before Axel could think of an answer.

  Her eyes went wide. “You were in jail, Daddy?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “For a little while.”

  “Is that why you couldn’t come to see me and Mommy?”

  It was before they split. He’d only done six months for armed robbery. Then one day, he had a visitor with, as they say, an offer he couldn’t refuse. He joined a new organization while keeping his place in the old one.

  Ignoring the question, he found a plate in the cabinet, a loaf of bread on the counter. No hotdog buns, of course.

  He put two dogs on the plate beside a slice of bread and set it down before his daughter. “There you go.”

  She stared down at it without moving.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Mommy says we shouldn’t eat white bread.”

  Sounded like her. Uppity bitch. “You can while you’re here.”

  She brightened. “Can I have a root beer?”

  Axel looked at Draco.

  He shook his head. Might have known. Only real beer here. He went to the sink, found a glass in the cabinet and filled it with water.

  He set it down in front of Imogen.

  She looked horrified. “Tap water? Not bottled?”

  “It’s all we have.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “Do you have ketchup?”

  With a huff, he turned back to the fridge and found a bottle.

  She took the container and squeezed out two neat perfectly aligned rows next to the hotdogs. Again she looked up at him. “Knife and fork?”

  “Right.” He hunted them in a drawer and handed them to her.

  Daintily she began to cut into the hotdogs. She avoided the bread.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Draco snickering at him.

  Carefully she put a bite into her mouth, chewed and swallowed. “Are you going to take me to school tomorrow, Daddy?”

  He gave Draco a cautious look. “No school tomorrow.”

  She frowned, cutting off another bite. “How come?”

  “You get the day off. Your Mommy said you could stay with me a while. Won’t that be fun?”

  She looked like she didn’t believe him. “I didn’t do my homework. I couldn’t see in the closet.”

  “That’s okay. You can do it tomorrow.”

  She ate the last bite of hotdog, took a sip of water, and yawned. Her eyes were drooping.

  “We need to get you to bed.”

  “Where am I going to sleep?”

  “On the couch. I’ll sleep on the floor next to you.” He wasn’t going to leave Draco alone with her. He turned to his host. “You got any extra blankets or anything?”

  Draco lifted his palms. “I don’t know. I think Marie might have bought some. Look around.”

  Marie. Draco’s second to last girlfriend. The one with two little boys who looked like him. She liked to buy things for the house when they were together.

  Axel found some blankets in a basket in the laundry room and carried them to the sofa.

  He retrieved his daughter from the kitchen where she’d fallen asleep with her head on the table, and carried her into the living room.

  Gently he laid her down on the ratty couch and covered her with the blanket.

  Couldn’t be that comfortable, but it was better than the closet.

  For a long moment he watched the child breathe softly in and out. Once more, those strange paternal-like feelings bombarded him.

  How the hell had he gotten mixed up in this?

  He returned to the kitchen and found Draco still at the table, nursing a beer.

  “I don’t know about this, Draco. We can’t take care of a kid for long.”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  Axel shook his head. “I don’t know why I listened to you.”

  “Same reason as always. Because of the money.”

  It was true. Axel couldn’t resist the lure of a big payoff, and this one was really big.

  Money. The reason he did everything he was told to without question. Of course, since he’d been required to play it cool and not arouse suspicion, he’d had to live below his means. But for years he’d been saving what he’d earned serving the organization. Early on, he’d travelled to Europe under a fictitious name and opened a Swiss bank account. He’d been storing his funds there, far away from the prying eyes of the police. After this assignment, he’d more than double his balance.

  But there were risks. He lowered his voice. “They’re going to look for her.”

  “Those detectives? They won’t find her.”

  “They’re good. Didn’t you read the file? They’ve taken down serial killers.”

  Draco’s chair creaked as he sat back. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Okay, but we need to get it done fast.”

  “We will.”

  “Like tomorrow.”

  With an irritated look, Draco took a pull of his beer. “I told you. We’re missing one.”

  The computer nerd. “So? Can’t we do it without him?”

  “The order was clear.
He wants all of them.”

  Axel didn’t see the difference. “Why can’t we just knock off the four?”

  Draco set his bottle down with a smack. “I just told you. Savko wants all of them.”

  “Savko?” Axel hadn’t been told who had given the order. The name turned his blood to ice.

  Draco looked around his kitchen as if he thought it might be bugged. “Where else would an order like this come from?”

  “Savko contacted you direct?”

  “What do you think?”

  Of course, he did. Draco was higher up in the organization than Axel thought. Well above him. It wasn’t smart to cross him.

  Besides, Axel knew the only reason Draco had brought him in on this scheme was his ex’s connection to the Parker Agency. He was expendable.

  “So what do we do? How do we get the computer guy here?”

  Draco sat back and smoothed his oily red-blond hair. “I’ll have to think about that. I’ll come up with something.”

  “I just want it over. I don’t like getting my family involved.”

  Draco fixed him with a threatening gaze. “We have to be careful, Axel. Very careful.”

  “Aren’t we always?”

  “I’m not talking about drug dealing or gun running. This is big. It’s a carrot-and-stick situation.”

  Axel felt himself start to sweat. “What are you saying?”

  “The carrot—more money than you’ve ever been paid before.”

  He already knew that. The sum was worth risking his neck. “And the stick?”

  Draco smirked and reached for his beer. “You don’t want to know.”

  He’d always been tough, but Axel felt a chill go down his spine at those words. He’d heard of the gory deaths dealt out to those who didn’t come through on their promises by Savko’s toadies. Stories of meat hooks and chain beatings and getting dropped into the ocean alive to become shark bait.

  This would be worse.

  “So what are we going to do?”

  Draco studied the label on his bottle. “Maybe bring Crow in early.”

  “For what?” Draco hadn’t told him what they needed Crow for, but Axel could guess.

  “I need to sleep on it.” Draco got to his feet, the chair squeaking across the cheap tile floor.

  “I just want to make sure my daughter and my ex are okay.” Somebody had to take care of the kid.

  Without answering, Draco drained his beer, tossed the bottle in the trash, knocking an empty junk food bag onto the floor.

  As Axel went to pick it up, Draco headed for the hall. “You can stay here and watch the kid tomorrow. Have fun with your sleep-over.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Miranda woke with a familiar sensation of terror rippling through her chest. Her eyes flew open, and she realized her heart was pounding.

  Taking in several deep breaths, she forced herself to calm down. It was morning and daylight was streaming in through a nearby window.

  She’d had another bad dream. Of course. Something about the day Leon took her daughter from her. But she couldn’t remember anything else.

  It was just as well. She didn’t have time for nightmares.

  She turned over and saw Parker standing at the full-length wall mirror next to a marble-topped table. He was dressed in dark khakis, adjusting the cuffs of an ice blue button-down shirt. A dark textured sports coat was draped over a nearby chair upholstered in a lush deep tone that kind of went with his shirt.

  His gray eyes were trained on her, and his expression told her he knew she’d had a bad night.

  Not wanting to dwell on it, she ignored his reaction. “Dressing down today, are we?”

  “Blending in,” he said, his gaze still intense. But he didn’t bring up the dream. “Janelle called and said she’ll meet us at Olivia’s salon. She wants to be there early to open up.”

  Miranda considered that. “Did Olivia think Imogen might have gone to the shop after everyone left last night?”

  “Janelle’s tone implied that, but it’s probably wishful thinking.”

  It wouldn’t have made the little girl any safer to find her mother’s salon locked up.

  Shaking away that thought, Miranda looked at the clock and frowned. “Is that Pacific Time?”

  “It is.”

  She’d slept six and a half hours, but still felt like crap. Hoping her brain would clear soon, she got to her feet and shuffled to the bathroom.

  She brushed her teeth, showered, and padded back out to the closet, feeling a tad more alert.

  She dug for an ensemble to match Parker’s semi-causal look, and came up with a satiny blue blazer, white top, and a pair of nice dark jeans. Flat black shoes completed the outfit.

  She pulled it on and turned to Parker, arms outspread. “How do I look?”

  “Like a woman on a mission.”

  “You bet I am.”

  And so was he.

  Parker studied the determined look on his wife’s lovely face. She was focused, as always. But this case touched something deep inside her. A missing child was something she could hardly be objective about. It was almost as difficult for him. He’d nearly lost his own daughter five months ago. He was familiar with the gut-gnawing fear any parent would suffer under those circumstances. It had been Miranda who had saved Gen. But that case had started his wife on a downward psychological spiral that worried him deeply. And this situation would only make it worse.

  He could only pray they would find the girl quickly.

  Miranda noted the zeal in Parker’s step as he opened the door.

  He wanted to get this case over fast. Good thing. She did, too.

  “Let’s go.”

  Since neither of them wanted to waste time, they opted for the complimentary European style breakfast and met Holloway in one of the hotel’s restaurants off the exotic lobby.

  Everything on the menu seemed to be ultra health conscious. Parker chose egg whites and kale on a brioche bun. Holloway opted for smoked salmon on an Everything bagel. Miranda did the Mexican cage-free eggs with extra hot peppers. Along with the steaming hot black coffee, she hoped it would get her engine going.

  As she chugged down the flavorful brew, she noticed Holloway in his usual brown jacket, slacks, and tie. He didn’t get the memo.

  “Lose the tie,” Miranda told him.

  “Really?” He glanced at Parker for confirmation.

  “Everyone dresses casual here,” she told him. “We don’t want to stick out.”

  “Okay, okay.” He loosened his tie then realized he had nowhere to put it. “I’ll get rid of it in the car.”

  Good enough.

  They finished up, Parker signed for the tab, and they headed through the lobby and outside.

  The day was bright and sunny, with a nice breeze and a temperature somewhere in the low sixties. A welcome change from the wintry forties they were having back home.

  The valet brought the Navigator around and the trio hopped in and headed for Lavish Looks.

  Chapter Twelve

  They got caught in traffic and when they finally got to the beauty salon it was already past nine, making Miranda irritable.

  As they stepped inside Olivia Wesson’s posh salon, Miranda’s eyes began to water from the smell of hair dye.

  Fighting back the tears, she glanced around for the owner.

  The place was clean and stylish, full of glass and gloss and large trendy-looking abstract shapes. Behind a white-and-chrome chair, a tall man in black with purple hair and a pencil thin mustache was dabbing color onto a customer’s head.

  Hence the stinging odor.

  In another mirrored station nearby, a dark-skinned woman with hair the color of a shiny penny wielded her scissors like a ninja swordsfighter in a video game. Hair flew from her blades like wood chips off a lumberjack’s saw.

  “So, like, I’m on this new diet?” she said as she clipped away.

  Diet? Miranda thought. The woman was as skinny as a twig.

&nbs
p; The man with the hair dye chuckled. “What is it this week?”

  She snipped the ends of another section of hair. “It’s like, kale and cola? Like no meat? No salt?”

  “Kale and cola? Like, eww, Tennille.”

  “It’s not so bad. I think I’ve like already lost, like, a pound or two.”

  If she lost any more weight she might need a transfusion.

  “I’m doing the apricot cleanse, myself. Okay, so I might be in late tomorrow.”

  “You’re like always late, Roberto.”

  “A genius needs his beauty sleep.”

  Smiling at the remark, the woman named Tennille shook her head and handed her client a mirror.

  Before Miranda could interrupt the scintillating conversation, Tennille caught sight of the new arrivals and turned toward the woman washing out brushes in a sink near the back.

  “Customers, Nanette,” she called out.

  “We’re friends of the owner,” Miranda said, not knowing how much Olivia had told her employees.

  “Oh, right,” Tennille said as she gave Holloway a half-grin. Then her eyes went wide as she got a better look at Parker.

  Guess Olivia had told them something.

  Just then Wesson came out from the back. Apparently, she did get the wardrobe memo.

  She had on jeans with denim stars down one thigh, and a casual forest green top that showed off her curves.

  She hurried up to them and lowered her voice.

  “Olivia’s in the break room trying to keep it together. We had kind of a bad night.”

  “Perfectly understandable,” Parker said.

  “I need to talk to her,” Miranda said.

  And as if they were accountants there for an audit, the party marched around the workstations and headed toward the back.

  Olivia sat nursing a cup of coffee at a small table, looking worse than she had yesterday.

  “Have you had any more phone calls?” Miranda asked, getting straight to the point.

  Olivia shook her head. “I just couldn’t sleep last night. I can’t stop thinking about my poor Imogen.”

  “Have you had breakfast?” Parker asked.

  Olivia shook her head.

  “We ignored the alarm for a bit and came straight here,” Wesson added.

  She looked pretty haggard, too.