“Yes, but I also found a witness in Orlando who says that Karin had been dating Ken Russo for months and left just prior to his murder. Russo had Price’s tags, but the police didn’t find them after the homicide.”
“I screwed up, Meg. I didn’t consider that the contact the killers made with you was personal. I assumed it was to taunt the police. I’m sorry.”
“How could we have known about her? No one has heard from her in years. Last I knew, she was a physical therapist somewhere. Did you get my text message about Ken Russo?”
“Yes, and Rick Stockton is sending four agents to the community to interview everyone who saw her, starting with Paula Andrews. Good work, Meg.”
“Don’t pat me on the back. Karin’s at large and we need to find her ASAP. I don’t have to tell you she’s extremely dangerous.”
“Are you okay?” Hans asked.
“Yes. But I’ll be better when she’s behind bars.”
“I’ve already sent out an APB and her picture is going out to law enforcement.”
“You need to do a picture with shorter, blond hair. The witness said she dyed it.”
Movement behind the car caught Megan’s eye. She turned and the driver’s door opened.
The woman wore black jeans and a black T-shirt. Her short streaky blond hair looked like she’d cut it herself. But her wild blue eyes and the smug hatred on the woman’s face told Megan that nothing had changed. Karin Standler was still a sick, twisted sociopath.
She had a gun in her hand.
Megan dropped her BlackBerry and reached for her gun, but it happened too fast.
Karin pressed the trigger. Megan expected to die, but there was no gunshot, only a faint pop. Her left shoulder stung. Her head felt thick and her gun fell from her hand. She reached for something that protruded from her shoulder and the last thing she heard was Karin laughing while Hans shouted from far away, “Meg? Megan! Megan!”
Thirty minutes later Jack stared at the empty police car on the side of the Pacific Coast Highway. He pushed aside the quiet sobs of Officer Barbara Dodge who had been shot with a tranquilizer that had left her disoriented and ill. He ignored Hans Vigo and Detective Holden and a dozen cops walking around the area, looking for evidence-clues-as to where Karin Standler had taken Megan. He avoided looking at the plastic bag that held the tranq dart that had most likely been in Megan’s body, or the bag with her phone and her gun.
He focused on being the soldier he was. Not the man still grieving for a friend who’d been cruelly murdered. Not the man worried about a hostage. Not the man falling in love with a woman who may not even be alive.
She’s not dead. That bitch doesn’t want to kill her easy.
Jack closed his eyes and took a deep breath to push away the image of Megan tied to a chair, screaming in pain as she was being tortured with a thousand needles.
Megan’s strong. She’ll survive. She has to survive until I find her.
“Vigo!” Jack shouted. They weren’t doing anything. Not even planning their next move.
Hans approached. “We’re doing everything we can to find her. We have roadblocks-”
“We were too late with the roadblocks. Standler had ten minutes before we even knew where the damn car was!”
“We have aerial sweeps, until it gets too dark.”
Which was imminent.
“We have to find her fast.” Jack didn’t want Megan to suffer one needle of pain. He’d gladly take the torture to spare her.
“Dammit, Jack, I know that! Everyone at Quantico is working on this. We’re looking into Karin’s bank records, credit cards, property she may own, vehicles, everything.”
“The woman likely has cash and fake I.D.,” Jack said. “And a car that isn’t registered to her.”
“What do you want me to do? Give up?”
“Think like a killer.”
“I knew Karin. I was her boss. I didn’t recognize her for what she was.”
“Beat yourself up about it later. I need Megan’s phone.”
“Why?”
“She has friends who don’t always play by your rules.”
“We’re doing everything-”
“Give me her phone. What was that name again? J.T.?”
“Caruso.”
“Right. Rogan-Caruso.”
After Hans nodded his ascent, Jack ran over and snatched Megan’s phone from the evidence bag. He quickly found J. T. Caruso’s number and called it.
“Hi, Meg, I saw the news and-”
“This is Jack Kincaid. Is this J. T. Caruso?”
The voice turned from friendly to dead serious. “Yes. Where’s Megan?”
“Rosemont’s accomplice kidnapped her. Karin Standler. The feds are working it, but she’s been missing an hour and no one knows where she is. Standler could have taken her anywhere, though most likely someplace driving distance from Santa Barbara.”
“I’m on it. Keep this phone on you, I might need information.” He hung up.
Jack felt marginally better calling in the cavalry. Rogan-Caruso was the top private security firm in the country. They would do everything they could to find her. Jack had to believe that.
“Jack-” Hans began.
“I’m calling Dillon,” Jack interrupted. “He knows this stuff.” Walking away from Hans and the others, he dialed his brother on his own cell, keeping Megan’s free for a call back from Caruso.
“Jack?”
“Megan’s gone. Kidnapped by Rosemont’s accomplice.”
“Megan knows the woman.” Dillon stated it as a fact.
“Yes. It’s her former partner. Karin Standler shot Megan during a fucked-up operation and was fired, but Megan said it was deliberate, not an accident. Get into her head, Dillon. I need to find Megan now.”
Dillon said quietly, “I’m not psychic, Jack. I need information.”
“I don’t know anything!” Jack ran his hand over his head, staring at the ocean without seeing the setting sun. “Where would Karin Standler take Megan?”
Dillon began slowly. “We need to assume that Agent Elliott was the target all along. That however Karin became involved with Rosemont, her primary purpose was to abduct and torture Megan. Which means she’s most likely still alive.”
“I already know that. She’s alive, and about to suffer horribly if I can’t find her. If I know where she is, I can extract her. That’s all I need, a location.”
“Is the FBI running property records? Credit? Any-”
“Yes, all of it. Megan is one of theirs, they’re doing everything they can.” Megan is mine.
“Does Hans know this woman?”
“Yes. He was Standler’s boss back then.”
“Put him on the phone.”
Jack motioned for Hans to come over. “It’s Dillon.” Jack put it on speaker. He wasn’t about to miss any of it.
“What have you got?” Hans asked.
“Do you have any of Standler’s aliases?”
“No, though we’re pursuing a lead at a hotel near the resort where General Hackett was killed. During the canvass, officers found a witness who saw a woman in a red bathing suit and sarong enter through a side door with a card key. She looked disheveled and matched the description we had from the bartender. We now think she registered under the alias Erin Hunter and are pursuing that lead.”
“What about Russo?” Jack said. “And the elderly people she conned?”
“Rubin,” Hans said. “Hannah Rubin.”
“What’s this about a con?” Dillon asked. “I need to know how she’s pulled all this off.”
Hans explained how Karin passed herself off as the long-dead daughter of an elderly couple in order to get close to Ken Russo. “That’s where she got Price’s dog tags, and likely where she found the location of the other Delta team members. She was there for five months.”
“Do you know anyone else she conned? Where are her parents? Siblings?”
“She’s an only child. Her father was a Virginia Supreme Court judge killed in a car accident when she was twelve. Her mother committed suicide twelve years ago. Right before she almost killed Megan.”
“Did anything else lead up to that attack on Megan?”