ATURDAY, 9 MAY 2009

0258

Izzy couldn’t kill Todd.

The prick had positioned himself at the window of the apartment directly across the courtyard from Eden’s place. He was just sitting there—the guy she’d tried to run over in the street—watching the place, in clear view of anyone who might be looking to take him out.

And even though the range of Greg’s handgun wouldn’t do the necessary damage from up here on the apartment complex roof—Izzy would need a rifle for that—he could’ve quite easily worked his way around to that side of the building, without being seen. Then he could’ve dropped silently down onto the walkway and crept along bent over, down beneath the windowsill, only to pop up right in front of the motherfucker, and shoot him between the eyes at a far more acceptable range of about two feet.

The problem with that, aside from the noise from the gunshot and the inconvenience of an impending police visit, was that Izzy had no idea how often Todd was in touch with the mothership, aka Jake-the-asshole-from-the-mall. It also served them better, having Todd here, regularly reporting in that “Danny hasn’t left the building,” and “Danny still hasn’t left the building …”

Even though Dan would be long gone, along with Izzy, back the way Izzy had gotten in—via the living-room window that faced the street.

Greg’s cell phone shook once, and Izzy glanced down at it—it was Mark Jenkins calling him back. Izzy had already spoken with Mark’s wife, Lindsey, and had given her the rundown and had gotten theirbad news—she’d miscarried—from her.

He answered, speaking softly, moving over to the edge of the roof that looked down on the street, where it was silent in the darkness. “Mark, man, I’m so sorry.”

“It happens,” Jenk said. “Often, apparently, in the first trimester. I really had no idea, I mean, she’s healthy, so I thought—” He broke off. “Look, we can talk about this later. Your problem’s more immediate. Lindsey got the software working. According to the computer program, Dan’s cell phone is heading south on Interstate 15. If you left right now, and you went the speed limit, you’d be about twenty minutes behind them. They’re a few miles north of the exit for Route 161. I’ll text you with an update either way—if they take it or go past it.”

“Thanks, bro,” Izzy said, still watching the street, where no one and nothing was moving. He went back to the courtyard and double-checked Todd, who was still sitting there, and still looking pissed. “I’m going in to get Gillman now.”

“Lindsey called Jules Cassidy, you know, from the FBI, and forwarded him the pictures you sent her,” Jenk reported. “He ID’d the two men as Jake Dyland and William Nathan, and trust me, you don’t want them anywhere near Eden or Jenn.”

“Too late,” Izzy said.

“Yeah, I know. Cassidy’s going to call you,” Jenk said. “He’s contacting the local Bureau, and he says don’t do anything until you talk to him.”

“He’s not, like, conveniently in town for a conference …?” Izzy asked.

“Not a chance,” Jenk said. “I think he’s in Boston.”

“So whoever he’s talking to out here—he has no clue who they are or whether they got promoted because they kissed the right asses,” Izzy clarified.

Jenk was unequivocal. “Correct.”

“Fuck that,” Izzy said.

Jenk laughed, but even that sounded grim. “I knew you were going to say that. Hey, heads-up, Linds says that Danny’s cell phone just exited the interstate. It’s now heading south on 161, toward a town called Jean with a J.”

“Keep me posted,” Izzy said.

“Will do,” Jenk said. “We’re picking up Lopez now, we’ll get to you ASAP, so stall if you can.”

“I can’t,” Izzy told his friend as he prepared to go over the side of the roof.

“Yeah,” Jenk said. “I knew that, too.”

Neesha was trapped.

She couldn’t get out from where Ben’s brother had hidden her, beneath the sofa, even after she heard Todd and the others leave, taking Jenn and Eden with them.

Panic made her heart start to pound and she tried pushing up against the canvas and the metal frame, but lying with her arms at her sides, as she was, she couldn’t put her shoulders into it, and it only moved a little bit. She stopped almost immediately, because the fear that Todd might’ve stayed somewhere close by, where he could look in through the living-room window and see the sofa shaking, was stronger than any claustrophobia that she felt.

And she believed what Ben’s brother Dan had told her. That if they found her—Todd and the others—then Ben, too, would die. Of course, she wanted to believe that. It was very easy to believe such an outcome when the alternative was to give herself up and face her own demise.

“Dan,” she called softly, praying that he would hear her and wake up. “Danny!”

But he didn’t answer, and she lay there in silence for what felt like a very long time, but was quite possibly only minutes.

And then, finally, she heard a sound, something scraping, something rustling—was it Todd, coming back inside?—and she held her breath.

Except then she heard a voice whisper, “Neesha? Don’t freak. It’s me, Izzy. I’m going to open up the sofa now.”

And she started to cry, because Mr. Nelson’s men—Todd, and the others—had made it quite clear that if Izzy came back? Then Eden and Jenni and Ben were as good as dead.

But he somehow knew what she was thinking, because as he held out his hand to pull her up and out of her hiding place, he added, “It’s okay. Todd sucks at surveillance. He’s watching the door from an empty apartment across the courtyard. I went up on the roof and spotted him sitting at the window, what a dickweed—which is good for us.”

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his back and shoulders were all scratched up and bleeding slightly, plus he had a huge scar on his chest. It should have made him look scary, but to Neesha, it made him seem impossible to kill, which was a good thing. He was self-conscious about it, though, and he quickly unzipped a bag that was over on the floor, and pulled out a T-shirt and slipped it on even as he kept reassuring her.

“He didn’t see me come in,” he continued. “No one did. I came through this window, on the other side of the building, down from the roof.”

She’d looked out of that window before, and it was way up high, on this second story, and she went over to it now, wiping her eyes, afraid that someone passing by would see the rope he’d used to climb down.

But there was no rope. And he hadn’t broken the window. Everything looked normal—it was tightly shut.

The only thing out of the ordinary was that he’d taken the screen off, and it was leaning against the wall, near the air conditioner. But from the street? No one would ever suspect he’d entered the apartment that way.

She wasn’t quite sure how he’d done it.

“Let’s keep that closed,” he said, talking about the blinds, and as she turned back, she saw he’d already gotten down on floor next to Dan. “Be a good girl and get me some ice—” He stopped himself and glanced up at her, his dark eyes filled with both an apology and understanding.

“Shit,” he said. “Sorry. I bet you heard that a lot. Be a good girl … I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “You didn’t mean it the way they did.”

“Still.”

“I’ll get the ice,” she told him, and went to do just that.

The light hurt his eyes, and his head was throbbing, and it took Dan several long seconds to remember where he was—and what had happened.

The freaky little girl—Neesha—was out of the couch and was peering at Dan over Izzy’s shoulder as the other SEAL knelt beside him.

“You’re okay,” Izzy told him as he helped Dan sit up and put the ice where it would help the most. Jesus, he was dizzy … “That must’ve been some fight—you’re lucky they didn’t kill you.”

It was then it came back, and he looked around wildly, but Jenni and Eden were both gone. And Dan pushed Izzy away from him, hard.

“You can’t lie for shit, Zanella,” Dan said, “so don’t even bother. I know you told Eden to hit me—”

“And a fine job she did of it, too, Buddha be praised. You’re not badly injured, and you had just the right-length nap.”

“I should fucking kill you!” Danny swung for him again, but the world tilted and he had to stop and press his forehead to the floor in order not to get sick.

“You could try,” Izzy said. “But I’d like to remind you that you wouldn’t be able to try, if Eden hadn’t hit you. You wouldn’t be able to do anything. Eden’s and my goal was to make this very conversation—to kill me or not to kill me—possible. It was to keep you undead. And I mean the good kind of undead, not the creepy vampire kind, regardless of any lovely, sparkly—”

Danny lifted his head and substituted the floor for the bag of ice that Izzy had given him. “Jesus Christ, they have Jenni! Do you have any idea what those men are capable of?”

“I’m sure Jenn would agree,” Izzy spoke over him “She doesn’t seem the type to be into the whole pale, cold skin thing, not to mention the creepy stalker vibe. I’m betting she’s far more Team Jacob anyway—”

“Zanella! For the love of God!”

“And yes, I do know what they’re capable of,” Izzy said, “so if you’ve managed to get your eyes focusing in tandem again, and I’ve finally got your full attention, with all threats to beat the crap out of me temporarily out of your system, I’m ready to give you a sit-rep. You ready to listen?”

Dan managed a nod and a somewhat civil “Yes. Please.”

“We got one man, guy named Todd, last name unknown, watching the front door of this apartment,” Izzy said, “with orders to shoot to kill if I show up, or if you attempt to leave without clearing your movement with the boss, the big bald guy whose handle is Jake. So whatever you do, don’t go out that door. Eden and Jenn are still in transit, but we’re tracking their movement as we speak, because your amazing, incredible sister who saved your life tonight also managed to hide your cell phone up her sleeve.”

“Oh, thank God,” Dan said, closing his eyes. But he opened them immediately as Izzy continued.

“She also convinced them to leave you her cell phone so that they could get in touch with you—they’ve already sent you a text, telling you to call Jenn’s phone, allegedly to set up an exchange—Jenn, Eden, and Ben for Neesha.” Izzy looked over at the girl. “We’re not going to do that. We have no intention of giving you to them.” He looked back at Dan. “Same way they have no intention of giving Jenn, Eden, and Ben back to us. They didn’t try at all to hide who they were. Todd and Jake and a dude named Nathan all called each other by name while they were in here.”

Dan was still focused on what Izzy’d said a moment earlier. “Tracking them how?” he asked.

“You want the good news or the bad news?” Izzy asked, but didn’t let him answer. “Bad news: Lindsey miscarried, but out of the two of them, Mark’s the emotional wreck, even though he’s pretending to be strong. They just got home from the hospital and jumped on top of this as a major distraction. They’re picking up Lopez, and the three of them are looking for the fastest way up here. And with Markie-Mark in the equation, I’m thinking they might be here in about ten minutes, via stealth bomber or maybe space shuttle. But the real good news is that he and Lindsey still have your cell phone’s GPS info in her laptop, from the last time we were war-gaming. He’s got the program up and running, so whenever you’re ready to blow this Popsicle cart, we can start following the bastards that took our family, because we now know exactly where they are—which is now thirty-five minutes ahead of us.” Izzy paused. “Unless you want to follow the rules and wait to talk to the FBI. Jenk told me Lindsey called Jules Cassidy—and I agree with her, we can trust him, he’s good people, but he’s in Boston? And I have no idea who he’s going to contact out here to work with us, or how long they’re going to take to get their asses in gear, so—”

“I’m not waiting for anyone,” Dan said. “If we know where Jenni and Eden are …? I say, fuck the rules.”

Izzy nodded and held out a hand to help him to his feet. “Welcome to my world.”