Page 138 of Every Broken Piece
“Not my problem,Gabe.”
I curl a hand around the edge of the desk to keep from punching something. “I need proof she’s okay.”
“You’ll just have to trust me on this.”
“Forgive me,Ryan, if my level of trust is low. Proof. I need it.”
“Show me the money, I show you the girl. Twelve hours. One million dollars. No cops. I see cops, she’s dead.”
“Either way, you’re dead, Carter. Remember that.”
“Threatening me, Gabriel? Not wise. I’ll text you the location a half hour before.”
He ends the call, and I’m left holding the phone, shattered and furious and terrified enough to start planning how I can liquidate one million dollars in twelve hours. Because, yeah, I’m contemplating giving him what he wants if that keeps Tess alive.
I push away from the desk and stalk toward the door. Davies grabs my arm. “Where the hell are you going?”
“To go get her.”
“You can’t just go marching in there.”
I lean into the chief’s face. “What would you do if it were Rita?” His wife who he dotes on. A lovely woman I’ve met a few times.
He drops my arm. “Not go off halfcocked. That’ll get us all killed.”
“You think I should pay him what he wants?”
“Hell, no.”
“I can’t leave her there.” My voice cracks.
“About that. We pinpointed the dot. She’s in a developing subdivision called Stonebridge Summit. Or at least that’s where her laptop is. None of the homes are finished so no one’s living there yet. Houses are in various stages of completion. I’ve called the developer. He’s on his way with the plans. We need to isolate which house she’s in before we go storming in.”
“So once you find which house you’ll go storming in?”
He gives me a warning look. “We’ll see.”
“Bullshit. I want a plan, Rich.” What if they move her but leave the backpack? What if the backpack isn’t with her? What if they search the backpack and find her computer?
“And you’ll get a plan, just as soon as we form one.”
I cross my arms and glare at him, but he’s been a police officer for a long time, and I don’t intimidate him, so I pull out my phone and make a call. Despite the late hour, or early hour depending on how you view it, Emily Munson, my PR director, answers.
“This better be important,” she says on a yawn.
“I need you at the Denver PD headquarters pronto. We need to get a press release out right away.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Davies demands.
“On it,” Emily says not even questioning why I’m calling her hours before dawn or why I’m at the PD. I end the call, knowing she'll be here.
“He said no cops,” I say to Davies. “He didn’t say no press.”
“I hope like hell you know what you’re doing, Strong.”
I do too. I want to put as much pressure on Ryan Carter as I can. I want the O’Malley’s all the way in Chicago to hear about this. I want the crime family on Carter’s ass so fast he won’t know which way to turn.
I want Tess back.
