“Come again,” I said as the muscles in my bicep tightened as did my grip upon the phone.
“Someone removed the necklace,” Mason said too calmly.
“That’s not a newsflash. If you were fucking listening, you know that’s what happened. She’s also unconscious.”
“Right, I was listening. Were you?”
“What the hell do you mean?” I asked.
“Did the woman sound nefarious? Was she harming Madeline?”
My head shook. “Nefarious, no. Harming, I don’t know what the fuck she was doing.”
“We pulled the recording here,” Mason said. “We all listened as you did. The woman’s words were that she would help Madeline. Help, Patrick.”
“She’s been drugged or something. She’s not asleep.” I ran my free hand over my head. “I’m going there, now.”
The voice on the other end changed; no longer Mason, it was Sparrow. “No, you’re not. If you do, you’ll give away your location. Ivanov and Hillman are still on the ranch. Ruby is still in the island retreat. We have a photograph from a drone of a young woman we believe is your daughter. She was out by the pool near the gulf. Does that sound as if she’s in danger?”
Sighing, I sat on the edge of the bed. “Madeline was right. Ruby’s safe at the retreat.”
“It appears that way. And with the picture we have confirmation.”
“We’ll keep an eye on everything from here and you from there,” Sparrow said. “I’d be fucking irate if this were Araneae, but think about the positives.”
“They aren’t exactly clear at this moment,” I replied.
“We have known locations for both of them. We have both places monitored. No one is coming or going who we don’t see.”
Though he couldn’t see me, I nodded. “Send me the picture,” I said.
“We think it’s her.”
“Madeline showed me a few different shots. I’ll know. Send it.”
“Stay fucking put,” Sparrow said. “Let us work on this. We need to know Ivanov and Hillman’s plans before we make a move. Right now, we’re still putting out fires around the city. Stupid shit that is meant to distract us.”
Fuck.
“Concentrate on that,” I said. “I’ve got this.”
“Oh fuck no. Distractions mean something big is coming. We cleaned house. Word is out that either they’re with us or they will end up in a barrel. Hillman’s losing his contacts, which means so is Ivanov. We have eyes everywhere. You aren’t storming into another ambush. Besides, we’ve been talking about Madeline’s theory.”
I’d called Mason and filled him in on Madeline’s thoughts about Ivanov’s enemies from within after she left for the airport. We both agreed there was merit in her observations.
“Reid is searching Hillman’s history over the last six months. We’ll let you know if we come up with anything.”
I appreciated that they hadn’t dismissed the idea simply because it came from Madeline.
My phone vibrated. “Is that the picture?”
“Yes,” Sparrow answered. “Tell me you won’t go in guns blazing, not until we know what’s happening.”
“I...” I wanted to say fuck it. I was getting Madeline back, but I didn’t. “As long as I know they’re both safe.”
“Wait for my word.” It was the last thing Sparrow said before the call ended.
I switched to text messages and opened the picture.
My daughter was a woman. The resolution was poor, but I could see her. She was wearing a large hat over her dark hair. There was a book in her lap, and her long legs were stretched out on the lounge chair near a pool. From her position she could see the gulf beyond the pool’s water. It was hard to determine it was her, yet I felt it. Those were Madeline’s legs, healthier than we were at that age, but I knew in my heart it was Ruby.
Something else caught my eye as I tried to zoom in further. The grainy quality didn’t help, but nonetheless, I was certain that the faint image to her side was a man—I’d guess a rather large man.
“Ruby, is he protecting you or a threat? Is he the man Madeline mentioned?” I shook my head and sent a text to Reid.
SEND MORE PICTURES.
Madeline
My eyelids felt heavy as I moved against the soft sheets, snuggling within their warmth. The sensation filled me as I woke, my thoughts wandering as I wondered when the last time was that I’d slept so well.
Suddenly, I recalled Marion’s car.
Where was I?
My hand went to my neck.
Nothing.
My necklace was gone—my communication with Patrick.
My eyes opened and my head turned from side to side as I looked all directions.
A cold chill settled over me, causing me to pull the covers closer as I tried to make sense of where I was and what had occurred.
I had no memory after the car.
It was as if I were an actor in a theatrical play. The curtain had fallen and I’d missed the next act.
As the reality of my situation consumed my thoughts, my pulse rate escalated to the point of dizziness.
“Stop,” I counseled. “You’re not back there. This is a bedroom.”
Peering under the blankets, I saw I still wore the bra and panties I’d donned back at the hotel. Looking up, I listened. The soft purr of air conditioning was all I could hear as an overhead fan silently circled. Lifting the sheet to my chest, I sat up. With the movement, I evaluated myself—my skin and muscles. Nothing ached or felt sore or violated.
What happened?
Expanding my view, I moved my attention beyond the bed where I’d slept, seeing rays of sunlight shining through slats of plantation blinds, striping the room in golden lines. In the car the sun had been nearing the horizon.
How long had I been asleep?
I took in deep breaths, continually reminding myself to not panic.
As my eyes adjusted to the lines of sunshine, I took inventory of every corner of the room. Soft gray walls and white trim surrounded me, one wall lined with bookshelves and built-in cabinetry. Along with the bed where I sat were the normal bedroom furnishings, bedside stands, lamps, a dresser, and a chest of drawers. Over the dresser was a large mirror. Upon the shelves were spines of books—hundreds of books as well as colorful vases and other knick-knacks.
There was no question in my mind that this was Andros’s doing. After all, there was no reason for Marion to drug me. I’d willingly agreed to visit his ranch.
Was that where I was?
Patrick.
My hand again went to my neck.
Oh my God, he isn’t with me. He doesn’t know where I am or if I’m safe.
What would that mean?
What was happening between the bratva and the Sparrows?
Ruby?
Fighting the bubbling anxiety, I continued my search, and with trembling hands, slowly folded back the blankets.
To my left was a door, slightly ajar.
Tentatively, I moved from the bed. Beneath my bare feet was a soft rug, an island upon which the bed resided. The floor beyond was shiny hardwood. Step by step, I walked toward the door. As I did, I scanned all around, wondering if I was being watched or maybe overheard.