A thought that sent a shaft of guilt straight into her heart, remorse for the pleasure she had received while her son was suffering, terrified he would never get home.
Her throat tightened. She had needed Reese last night and as always he had been there for her. After his intense lovemaking, she had fallen into a bone-deep slumber, free of the constant fear that threatened to paralyze her completely.
He walked toward her, tall and dark and so incredibly handsome. Kenzie glanced away, afraid her feelings for him would show in her eyes.
“I’m glad you got some sleep,” he said, a soft note in his voice she rarely heard, along with a hint of male pride. He pressed a mug of hot coffee into her hand. “We’ve got work to do and you’ll be more help now that you’re rested.”
She flushed at the memory of last night and wrapped her fingers around the mug, grateful for the soothing warmth. “Thanks.” She took a sip and was surprised how good it tasted.
“I need to call the office, make sure things are running smoothly. It’s time to speak to our attorneys, see how they’re coming with the cancellation documents. I also need to call Derek Stiles, let him know what’s going on.”
Kenzie had talked to Gran earlier. Her grandmother was worried sick but holding it together. Kenzie retrieved her laptop, pulled it out of its case, and set it on the kitchen table.
“I’ll call Louise,” she said. “She’ll be in near-panic mode. I’ll see what I can do to help.” She could also check her email, see if there was anything important.
Hawk set his coffee mug down on the kitchen counter. “I’m headed back to the hospital. Soon as I’m sure Long’s okay, I’ll start hunting Bolt.”
“Keep in touch,” Reese said as he picked up his phone.
“And be careful,” Kenzie added.
Hawk smiled. “Same thing my wife said when I talked to her this morning. I reminded her I’m always careful.” Hawk grabbed his gear bag and turned back to Kenzie. “Can you shoot?”
“A little too well, according to the police.”
He pulled out a .38 revolver and set it on the counter, turned, and headed out the door.
They made the necessary calls and worked on the internet. Over an hour slipped past. Kenzie poured herself another cup of coffee just as her cell phone rang. Her pulse took a leap. Thinking it was the kidnappers, she glanced at Reese, who moved up beside her.
“Hello.” Her hands shook as she held the phone so he could hear.
“It’s Shirley,” the blackjack dealer said in a gruff voice. “Is this Kenzie?”
“It’s Kenzie. Hi, Shirley. Did you...did you find him?”
“No way to know if it’s your boy, but one of the cleaning gals has a boyfriend who works room service. Said he’s been bringing kiddie meals to room 1806. It’s a suite on the eighteenth floor. Said he could hear cartoons playing on the TV in the bedroom.”
Kenzie’s pulse speeded.
“Doesn’t mean it’s him,” Shirley warned. “But the boyfriend said there were two guys in the room and neither of them looked much like a daddy.”
“Thank you, Shirley, thank you so much. I really appreciate your help.”
“Be good if you kept my name out of it.”
“I will, I promise.”
Reese phoned Hawk. “We got a lead on the boy. There’s a chance they’ve got him stashed in the casino hotel.”
“A suite on the eighteenth floor,” Kenzie added in the background. “We have to go find out.”
Reese put the phone on speaker.
“Take it easy,” Hawk said. “You can’t just go storming in with no idea what you’re facing. We need intel. We need to be certain the boy’s actually in the room and if he is, who’s in there with him. If he’s there, we need a plan to get him out.”
Kenzie’s worried glance flashed to Reese. She wanted to rush back to the hotel, pound on the door of the suite, and demand the men let Griff go. But they needed to be prepared or something could go wrong and Griff would be in terrible danger.
“Hawk’s right, honey,” Reese said. “We have to be prepared.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“I need to find Bolt,” Hawk said. “But your son comes first. I’ll head over to the hotel and keep an eye on the room until you get there. What’s the number?”
“It’s 1806,” Reese said.
“Arm yourselves and meet me there.”
THIRTY-ONE
Reese was anxious to get back to the casino, but before they left the room, he called Chase.
“Two things,” Reese said. “Hawk was right. Haines’s killer is a mob hit man named Jeremy Bolt. But maybe you know that already.”
“Hawk called, brought me up to speed. What’s the second thing?”
“We may have found the boy. It’s far from certain, but it’s possible they’ve stashed him in a suite in the Pot-of-Gold casino.”
“DeMarco’s club?”
“That’s right.”
“Which means he’s got a small army at his disposal. What’s your plan?”
“We’re working on it. We need more information. Once we confirm Griff’s there, we can move forward.”
“I’m coming to Shreveport. Four of us are better than three.”
“It might be a wasted trip,” Reese warned.
“I’ll fly. Won’t take as long to get there.”
“Take the jet. Kenzie can set it up. Flight takes less than an hour.”
“Good idea.”
“I’ll stay in touch, keep you abreast of what’s going on.”
Thirty minutes later, they were armed and ready, Reese’s Nighthawk holstered at his waist beneath a lightweight black nylon windbreaker, plus the .380 ankle gun Chase had loaned him. Kenzie had the .38 revolver Hawk had left her in the purse slung over her shoulder.
But they couldn’t act until they had intel. They needed to be sure Griff was there. They needed to know if there was a guard outside the room, needed to size up the exits, figure the best way in and out.
They arrived at the hotel, texted Hawk, and headed for the elevator. Hawk was already upstairs, somewhere out of sight. Reese and Kenzie crowded into the car with a group of tourists, who slowed the ride by getting off at half a dozen different floors.
Finally, the elevator doors slid open on the eighteenth floor, and Reese and Kenzie exited, just a couple heading back to their room to change or take a break from playing the slot machines. Reese wore his boots and straw cowboy hat, Kenzie her curly blond wig.