Page 5 of Holiday Hostage
My heart kicked a little harder, and I waited for the punchline.
Being a former Army Ranger, sometimes my clients had the wrong idea about what I did now that I’d moved into the private sector.
I took the envelope and pulled out a single photograph. Heat filled my veins.
The blonde woman in the picture had curves in all the right places, bright blue eyes that shone with vigor and laughter, and a smile meant to melt hearts.
Her hair draped over her shoulders and framed an oval face before falling down to her elbows.
She stood in the middle of an abandoned alley, her hands on her hips and a camera around her neck.
I studied the graffiti on the wall beside her, recognizing the artwork. It was displayed in one of the abandoned business districts downtown.
When I raised my head, I found Frank studying me. “What’s the job, sir?”
His slow nod showed approval. “Payton took off to Alaska last week. She’s a travel blogger.” Pride puffed out his chest and put a melancholy look in the older man’s eyes.
At fifty-five, he could have been gearing up to retire. Not Frank Rivers.
The billionaire business mogul worked hard, and based on my dive into his personal life, he had no other family besides Payton.
The information I’d found in the few minutes I had spent looking into him after his request for an appointment with me had turned up very little about his personal life.
I hadn’t even seen a picture of Payton until now.
I continued to wait. It was one of my more annoying qualities, according to my best friends and fellow former soldiers, Tarron and Reed.
However, patience often netted more fish than questions.
Frank did not disappoint. “She headed out on a guided tour yesterday. She did not return. Based on information from the guide who was with her at the time, it’s believed she may have been kidnapped.”
His voice broke at the end, and a hardness burned in his eyes. “The local authorities are out looking for her, but if the guide is correct about the signs of a struggle, I have no doubt there will be a ransom request sent my way soon.”
He stared hard at me, his finger stabbing into the desk so hard his nail whitened, the knuckle going red with pressure. “I want you to find her. Find my daughter and bring her back to me. Whatever the cost.”
Those last three words set off a chain reaction in my brain.
Synapses fired as an order I’d accepted years ago snapped into focus.
The last time I had accepted this kind of task, I had lost my military career, died, and been resurrected by Tarron.
Tarron was a former military medic who had refused to give up on me.
That death of everything dear to me in my life at the time had put the tremor in my hand and ended my career.
I pressed my left thumb into the palm of my right hand.
My fingers shuddered and jerked, the spasm coming and going at random.
“What about the ransom?” I allowed one question to break back into the conversation.
Frank remained poised, but a muscle jumped in his jaw. “I will pay whatever it costs to get her back. But the kind of people who would kidnap my daughter are not to be trifled with. There are no guarantees they won’t hurt her. They might kill her after they get their money. My lawyers and police friends recommend waiting for the ransom call to come in, but it’s been twenty-four hours of silence.”
His closed fist hammered the desk, sending pens flying into the air. “Get my daughter back. By Christmas.”
Christmas?
I didn’t need to check the calendar or contemplate the probability of success for this ask.
