Dolby(30)
Author: Maryann Jordan

 

“Well, thank God you did, or we would’ve had a fuck of a time figuring out what happened,” Leo said.

 

“Let’s not waste time getting to her house if nothing there will help us right now,” Carson said, drawing Dolby’s gaze. “I know you want to move, Dolby, but you know I’m right. We don’t want to lose precious time that could be better spent using our resources to find out where they took her.”

 

Another hand clamped on his shoulder, squeezing slightly. Bennett’s calm voice spoke. “Hang on, man. Carson’s right. Let’s do this methodically so we don’t chase our tails and waste time.”

 

“They’re gonna pay,” he growled, low and soft.

 

Another squeeze. “Yeah, they are.”

 

Nodding, he looked around. Poole and Adam were already pulling up street cameras, and Jeb was tapping into the outside security cameras of the neighbors. Natalie and Abbie were busy with the logistics of where the kidnappers might have gone. Chris, also a former SEAL, and Leo were already searching for information on Angela’s husband.

 

“We’ve got to get her out of there before her husband discovers she's at home and not kidnapped,” Bennett said, drawing Dolby’s attention to him.

 

“Shit, I didn’t even think of that!” Dolby growled, his heart rate increasing.

 

“Angela,” Carson called out. “Pack whatever you can that won’t alert your husband to anything unusual. We’ll jam the security system now. Since he’d already had it non-functioning to cover up the kidnapping, we won’t let the system go back online. But you need to go somewhere to stay until we can complete the mission. Somewhere you won’t be noticed or known or seen.”

 

“I can find a vacation house to rent.”

 

“We’ve got an available safe house about an hour south of where you are now. But you’ll have to consider it a vacation and stay completely off the grid.”

 

Angela nodded in haste. “I can do that easily. Anything for Marcia.”

 

“We’ll send the information securely. I’ll have one of my men meet you there to make sure you’re safe and settled.”

 

“It’ll only take me about fifteen minutes to leave,” she assured. “But there’s more. Lots more.”

 

At those words, all eyes shot back to the screen toward Angela. She dragged in a shaky breath. “I’ll give you all the sordid details about Roger and his illegal maneuvers, plus what he has been trying to steal from my accounts. But it’s Marcia… it’s… it’s just that she can’t handle this. Not her.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Dolby bit out.

 

“I was never going to tell anyone. She wanted to move beyond it. Not be tainted everywhere she went by it. But now… oh God… she won’t be able to handle this.”

 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Dolby shouted at the screen, not caring that Angela jumped at his harsh demand.

 

“Dolby,” Carson warned.

 

He jerked around. “We don’t have time to bullshit. Every minute could mean—”

 

“Marcia Blackburn isn’t her birth name,” Angela blurted, once more gaining all eyes on her. “It’s the name she legally changed it to when she was an adult.”

 

“What are you trying to tell us, Angela?” Carson asked.

 

“Marcia Blackburn was Marcia Baxter. If that name doesn’t ring a bell, then think back about sixteen years ago to the Baxter children’s kidnapping. It hit all the national and international news at the time.”

 

“Oh shit,” Leo said, his chin dropping to his chest.

 

“Fucking hell,” several others cursed, eyes wide.

 

It took a moment for Dolby to focus on Angela’s words, but the importance of what she was saying finally took root. Breath caught in his lungs just as Jeb filled another screen on the wall with the news articles showing the picture of a bright, smiling pair of young teenagers with the headline screaming Baxter oil magnate’s twins kidnapped. FBI manhunt ensues.

 

The next headline appeared on the screen. FBI raid saves Baxter's daughter. Twin brother’s body found nearby.

 

Then all the oxygen rushed from Dolby as his stomach dropped at the idea that Marcia was living a nightmare all over again.

 

 

 

 

 

14

 

 

 

 

 

Marcia had no way of knowing how much time had passed. She ate and drank little, wanting to keep up her strength but also aware that another bathroom break might not come very soon.

 

She was almost thankful when the door opened, and the same man led her to the toilet once more. Finishing quickly, she washed her hands again and stepped out into the hall, expecting to go back to the small room.

 

Her body tensed as a heavy hand landed on her shoulder, halting her footsteps. Her wide-eyed gaze sought his, but his only motion was to grunt as he lifted his other hand and pointed down the hall in the opposite direction. With his grip tight on her shoulder, she had no recourse but to walk forward. At the end of the hall, he squeezed her fingers, and she stopped. Her imagination ran rampant with the image that he was getting ready to kill her, and it was harder to breathe as fear raced through her.

 

He slid his hand from her shoulder to her arm and pulled it back while grabbing the other. She jerked instinctively, but her hands were zip-tied, rendering them immobile. Looking around, she barely caught sight of his movements before a cloth was whipped in front of her face and tightened around her mouth. Now unable to speak or move her arms, she stared wide-eyed at the large man.

 

He produced another strip of cloth and tied it over her eyes. She tried to scream, but the muffled sound couldn't carry farther than just a few feet. She heard another door open, and he held tightly to her upper arm, leading her forward. Unable to balance well or see where she was going, she stumbled. Her body was shifted, and more hands gripped her other arm. The efforts kept her from falling on her face, but she continued to stumble between them as they shuffled down the hall, went around corners, and then out through a loud-clanging door where the warm sun and fresh air hit her.

 

With the gag over her mouth, she breathed deeply through her nose. The sounds of machinery, the beeps of trucks backing up, and lots of talking and shouting in the background met her ears, but her escorts kept her continually walking forward. The blindfold had lifted slightly over one cheekbone, and she discerned asphalt was underneath her feet. Not wanting to alert anyone that she had a sliver of downward sight, she trudged along.