A soft knock came at his door. It was his secretary.
“Are you all right in there, Senator?”
“According to most definitions of ‘all right
’—
no. But I
’
m okay. I
’
ll be out in a minute.”
His phone buzzed with a text.
Don
’
t worry. We took care of Seth Matthews and the rest of his team.
The text accompanied a picture of a building engulfed in flames with partial charred remains strewn nearby.
Daniels pounded his desk with his fist. He picked up his phone and hammered out a message with his thumbs.
Just wait until I get my hands on you.
His phone buzzed again.
“Another threat, Senator? Come, come. I thought you were a different kind of politician — you know, the kind like your ads proclaim. But threatening a young reporter over a story that
’
s undeniably true? That seemed utterly beneath you.”
Daniels felt every muscle in his neck tightening as he prepared to speak. “I
’
m tired of your games and—”
“Now, now, Senator. Let
’
s not make any more threats you can
’
t afford to back up. We wouldn
’
t want Miss Stone to find out what happened to Misses Daniels. I
’
m sure she
’
d be much more happy to write that story as well.”
Click.
Daniels hung up as he stood up. He hurled a paperweight across the room, shattering the glass case containing his game ball. Shaken from its position, the ball tumbled off its stand and bounced onto the floor. He picked up the ball and stared at it.
The answer to his predicament was staring back at him. He needed to talk to Senator Howard Blackledge.
CHAPTER 29
LUKE REMAINED IN HIS ROOM as instructed by Dave. If he was ever going to escape, he needed the element of surprise — not suspicion. Lull the kidnappers into a false sense of security and then hit them when they least expect it. At least that was the plan. Luke preferred not to hit anyone, especially with Dave around. It wouldn
’
t take but one hit back from the monster to end all hopes of a fight.
Sam poked his head in the door. “Is everything all right in here?” he asked.
Luke shrugged. “In a manner of speaking.”
“Sorry, kid. Gotta follow orders.”
Luke shook his head. “Can you at least get the television turned down? If I have to hear the intro music to ‘
Criminal Minds
’
one more time, I think I might kill someone myself.”
Sam smiled.
“You and me both. I
’
ll see what I can do.”
With a nod, Luke watched Sam close the door and disappear from his sight. If Sam was genuine, Luke figured he had at least one real ally on his side. If not, it was an intense game of “good cop-bad cop” and they were fooling him completely.
Luke paced around the room and peered through the window into the dense forest surrounding the cabin. No one had gone in or out since he
’
d been awake. He eventually collapsed on the bed, bored. He
’
d grown tired of watching and taking notes about the kidnappers
’
movement — or lack thereof.
He rolled off the bed onto his feet and stooped down to inspect the nightstand on the right side of his bed. A bowl of plastic decorative apples in a wooden bowl sat on top of the stand, while a pile of books rested on a shelf beneath it.
The Cleaner
by Mark Dawson caught his eye. He read the back cover. “John Milton considers himself an artisan. A master of killing. Milton is the man the British government calls on to eliminate the worst of the worst: the enemies of the state that MI5 and even the military can
’
t stop.
”
Where
’
s John Milton when I need him?
Luke would
’
ve settled for anyone. A forest ranger. A wildlife game and management officer. He
’
d take a pizza delivery guy at this point. Anyone who would get the clue that a trio of thugs had taken him captive against his will. His hopes faded with each passing second.
Luke walked around the room again and the glint of sunshine off a piece of metal caught his eye.
Is that what I think it is?
The shaft of a motorcycle reflected the afternoon sun. Nearly hidden out of sight by a woodpile a few yards away from the house, the vehicle tempted Luke.
If I can get that thing cranked before they see me, I can get outta here.
Luke knew there was only one man with the guts — and the desire — to shoot him, which was Dave. Sam definitely wouldn
’
t, no matter what. And Bill? That was a fifty-fifty proposition. And at this point with no sign that his uncle was tracking him, it was all he had.
For the next hour, he laid prostrate on the floor by the door and listened to the conversation of the kidnappers. It was benign, mostly arguments about which football team had the best quarterback or which baseball team had the best reliever — none of which interested him. He was listening for one thing. And then he heard it.
“I
’
m going into the basement,”
Dave said.
“I
’
m going to see if there
’
s any good wine down there.”
Luke took a deep breath. He waited until he heard the distinct noise of footsteps descending down a flight of stairs.
Here we go.
He slid the window in his upstairs room open and climbed out onto the roof. Crouching low, he stealthily crept down the roof until he reached the edge. He
’
d done this plenty of times before at home without his father catching him and figured he could replicate the feat with the same success.
He maneuvered around the edge of the roof until he found a landing spot that he figured was out of the line of sight of Sam and Bill.
Here goes nothing.
He jumped and landed softly. Without hesitating, he hustled back against the house and listened.
“Did you hear something?” Bill asked near the window.
Luke froze.
“No. Did you?” Sam answered.
“I thought so, but maybe not. Better go check on the kid.”
“Why don
’
t you do it?”
Sam said.
“I did it last time.”
“Fine.”
Luke waited until he heard footfalls on the steps.
It
’
s now or never.
He took a deep breath and dashed toward the woodpile concealing the motorcycle. He stomped on the bike
’
s ignition pedal and it roared to life.
He revved the engine a few times and took off down the driveway leading to the main road. Once he arrived there, he realized the gate was locked — something he hadn
’
t anticipated.
He glanced around and looked for an alternate route.
He looked behind him and saw all three men running down the driveway toward him.
Time to improvise.
Luke slung the bike around and headed toward a small opening where the fence was bent low. He hit a short mound of dirt in front of it and yanked hard on the handlebars.
He cleared the fence by inches and landed wheels down simultaneously. He watched as the kidnappers continued to run after him.
Kiss it, jerks.
He spun the bike around and headed for the main road. In a matter of seconds, he reached the main road and started to fly down it. The adrenaline rush was exhilarating. He only needed to reach the town and he was free.
Luke glanced over his shoulder once more to check if any of the kidnappers were in pursuit. It was just enough time for him to miss the truck barreling around the corner.
He turned his gaze back in front just in time to see the truck and swerved to miss it. When he did, he went careening off road and slid down an embankment until he came to a stop with a thud when his body crashed into a tree.
Everything went dark.
When Luke came to, he looked up and saw Dave
’
s face. Dave hovered over him and started slapping him in the face.
“Wake up, kid,” he said.
Luke blinked a few times and took in his surroundings. Sam and Bill flanked Dave on the left and right, respectively.
“That was a bad idea, kid,” Dave said as he yanked Luke to his feet and threw him over his shoulder. “You
’
re not going anywhere now — I guarantee it.”
CHAPTER 30
SETH MATTHEWS GROANED as he regained consciousness. A thick haze hung in the air, a mixture of smoke and monoammonium phosphate. He coughed and felt a sharp pinch on his left side. Instinctively, he reached to grab it with his right hand before he realized he couldn
’
t thanks to the position his arms were in. He looked up and saw Shepherd
’
s smiling face as he felt himself being dragged slowly across the floor.
“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Shepherd said before struggling to inhale his next breath. “You need to lay off the dessert, boss.”
Matthews shook his head and laughed. “I
’
m good, Shepherd. Just let go of me, okay?”
“It
’
s your funeral — well, I mean, it almost was until I figured out what was going on.”
Hammond moaned and staggered to his feet. “I thought we were goners.” He squinted as he gaped at the smiling Shepherd. “Did you do this?”
“By this do you mean locking you in the cellar and setting it on fire or extinguishing the fire and saving your lives?”
Zellers gently pushed Shepherd aside and hustled up the stairs. “Let
’
s get out of here before we inhale any more of this smoke and whatever else this stuff is that Shepherd sprayed in here.”
“Monoammonium phosphate?”
Shepherd said.
“Yeah, whatever. Let
’
s go.”
Everyone followed Zellers up the stairs and outside. They moved twenty yards clear of the structure before they all collapsed onto the ground with the exception of Shepherd.
Shepherd marched back toward the fire and began dousing the cellar doors and the back porch with kerosene.
“Hey! What are you doing?” Matthews called.
“It occurred to me that if we
’
re going to find Luke that we need to regain the advantage we once had. What better way to gain an advantage than for the kidnappers to think we
’
re dead?”
Matthews nodded and coughed. He gestured for Shepherd to continue. In a matter of seconds, the lodge was engulfed again in flames.
Shepherd skipped back toward the team before turning around and watching the structure burn with a satisfied look on his face. “Now, that
’
s more like it.”
It didn
’
t take more than five minutes for the mostly wooden lodge to begin crumbling as the flames spread.
“Good work, Shepherd,” Matthews said as he rose to his feet. “Maybe someday you can explain to me how you put the fire out so quickly.”
Shepherd
’
s face lit up. “Simple math and physics and knowledge of chemistry. You see as soon as I heard your distress calls, I drove the—”
“I said
someday
, Shepherd. Now is not that day. What I need you to do right now is figure out where the kidnappers are keeping Luke.”
“You got it,” Shepherd answered as he hustled toward the van parked along the driveway.
Zellers stared at the trees shielding the partly cloudy skies. “How did we miss that? I mean, it was so obvious it was a set up.”
“It wasn
’
t that obvious,”
Jones said.
“At least, not when we thought we were getting good information from Luke.”
Matthews cleared his throat as he watched the lodge continue to burn. “One of two things happened. Either they caught Luke leaving messages for us or they suspected we were on to them and moved him quickly. Whatever the reason, we
’
re lucky we escaped here thanks to Shepherd. Perhaps we can let him listen to Rachmaninoff today and nobody will complain?”
Matthews
’
suggestion was met with affirmative grunts and begrudging groans. “If it wasn
’
t for him, you
’
d all be listening to heavenly harps — except for you Hammond. I
’
m sure they don
’
t have harps where you
’
re going.”