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She watched as his broad shoulders stiffened and his lips pulled into a tight line, the controlled anger locked in his jaw a mute testament to his frustration.
Sal wanted to argue with her, to convince her that he was right—she saw it in his eyes—but he didn’t try to. All he said was, “I’m staying. Get used to it.”
* * *
Determination lit Olivia’s eyes. He knew that look. It was her I-can-handle-this-by-myself face. While he respected her independence, he couldn’t allow her to be hurt because she was too proud to admit she needed help. He knew he had to tread lightly.
He didn’t want to scare her. At the same time he needed to make her realize that kidnappings and ransom drops rarely, if ever, went smoothly. She didn’t know what she was getting herself into. He’d do whatever he had to in order to protect her. It was time she accepted that.
Olivia reached for his hand, nails biting into his palm. Visceral shock leached the color from her face until her skin appeared almost translucent.
“I’m sorry, Sal. You came all this way and I barely even thanked you.”
“It’s all right. But don’t try to send me away again. Whether you admit it or not, you need me.”
“You’re right.” She twisted a strand of hair. “That’s one thing I resented about you. You’re always right.”
Had he been right two years ago when he’d walked away from Olivia and what they had together?
At the time, he’d been sure it was the right thing to do. He’d left for a reason. That reason still held. His past was pockmarked with pain and despair. He couldn’t inflict that upon someone as full of light and love as Olivia.
He couldn’t focus on the past. Not now. They had to find Chantry. Both instinct and experience told him the kidnapping was more than a simple snatch-and-grab for money. If that had been the case, Olivia would have already received a ransom demand. Instead, the kidnappers were toying with her, trying to rattle her into making a mistake.
He had to convince her that she couldn’t blindly give in to their demands. He’d keep her safe, whether or not she agreed to it. His sense of duty and honor, drilled into him during his years in Delta, demanded that. Though he’d left the military behind, he hadn’t left the essence of it in the mountains of Afghanistan. It was in his blood, his pores, his heart.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
When Olivia and Sal arrived at the office, the receptionist greeted them and pointed to a box. “Ms. Hammond, a package arrived for you.”
Before Olivia could take the package, he stopped her. “Let me.” He withdrew a pair of thin protective gloves from his pocket and donned them. If there were any fingerprints or DNA on the box, he didn’t want to disturb them.
“You think this—” she gestured to the box “—is from the kidnappers?”
“I think there’s a strong possibility.” He looked about the reception area. So far only the receptionist was here, but other workers would probably soon arrive. “Do you want to take this into your office?” Inside her office with the door locked, Sal didn’t let go of the package.
She held out her hands. “I’ll do it.”
He shook his head. “There could be a bomb inside. Probably not. But we have to have it checked.”
Her nod indicated reluctant agreement.
Sal made a call to a friend still in uniform, explained the situation. Within ten minutes, an explosives expert arrived and told them to wait outside. A short time later, the man gave the all clear.
“No bomb. Something else.” He pushed aside wrapping paper.
Inside lay a severed finger.
* * *
Sal and his friend exchanged a grim look. “I don’t know what you’re dealing with here, Sal, old buddy,” the man said, “but you’d better get some help.” With that, he left.
Olivia barely registered the conversation. She could only stare. The gasp that escaped her lips was filled with revulsion. She’d expected something like this, but the reality was worse. A lot worse.
“It’s Calvin’s.”
“You sure?”
She nodded. “I recognize the ring. He bought it a few months back. We had just won a big case and he wanted to celebrate.” She frowned. “I remember mentioning that it wasn’t his style. Calvin said something about maybe I didn’t know everything there is to know about him. Then he laughed and patted my hand.” She squeezed her eyes shut against the memory.
Sal studied the box with its grisly contents. “The ruby looks real,” he said of the large stone set in the pinky ring.
“Calvin would never have had a fake. Real or nothing, he used to say.”
“We don’t have a choice anymore,” Sal pointed out. “We have to take this to the police. It’s evidence of a crime.”
Of course he was right. She was an officer of the court. If she didn’t turn the finger and ring over to the police, she was guilty of committing a crime. But what of Calvin?
Obviously the kidnappers had eyes on her. What she did now could sign his death warrant, but doing nothing wouldn’t bring him back, either. She was caught between two untenable choices. The weight of indecision was crushing.
Calvin’s screams remained fresh in her memory. How was she supposed to agree to taking the box to the police when she could still hear his cries in her mind? A hard fist tightened in her belly at the acceptance that she was to blame.
“You’re doing it again. Blaming yourself.”
How did he know? She feigned ignorance, not wanting to admit that he knew her so well.
“You’re blaming yourself for what happened to your boss. Don’t fall into that trap. You’ll never get free.” Sal skimmed a finger along her jaw. “You might be able to hide your feelings from others, but not from me. Your expression gives you away every time.”
When she started to put her hands to her cheeks, he stopped her. “Don’t try to hide. Not from me.”
Deliberately, she backed away from him and the touch that could still turn her inside out.
She knew she was putting off the inevitable, and she hated the fact that she felt cowardly for doing so. She’d never been one to shirk from her responsibility, but now...now she didn’t know where her duty lay.
“The sooner the police start processing this, the better.” Sal stood, grabbed her hand, squeezed. “Right now, we’re operating in the dark. We don’t know who’s doing this. We don’t know what they want. We need something, anything, to give us a handle on this.”
She needed the wisdom of Someone wiser than herself. Lord, please help me make the right decision. I can’t afford to make a mistake.
The silent prayer afforded her a measure of peace.
“Okay,” she said, reluctance drawing out the two syllables. “We take this to the police.”
“You’re doing the right thing.”
Was she? She didn’t know.
Olivia looked up at Sal, not surprised to find his eyes flat and dark. He was all Delta at the moment. Good. She had a feeling she was going to need his special set of skills and training.
She’d kept track of him during the last two years. Stories of what he’d done in his work for S&J Security/Protection frequently made the Savannah papers. Sal was a hero, though he’d deny it with his last breath.
He’d brought home the courage that had defined him as a Delta, risking his life to safeguard others. It would always be so with this man who put country and honor first. Her heart had filled with pride when she’d read the articles chronicling his bravery and resourcefulness.
On top of that, she was still trying to make sense of the feelings swirling through her system at his nearness, making it difficult to breathe. The slightest touch sent sparks arcing between them. Or had she imagined it?
Her instincts couldn’t be trusted at the moment. High stress and emotional upheaval were a potent combination. Mistaking vulnerability for something else could only lead to heartache, and she did her best to set aside the complex feelings the last twenty-four hours had stirred up.
She’d managed to take a few deep breaths; at least, she didn’t sound like she was gasping for air any longer. She looked at the man who had burst back into her life, riding to her rescue like the hero he was.
His code of honor was a way of life, dictating how he lived and what he stood for. That’s why he was here, to help her, to save Calvin’s life and maybe her own. No other reason.
She’d do well to remember that.
FOUR (#u7799569f-365e-5d9e-9fce-479c100ee3c2)
The trip to the police station was made in near silence. Sal slanted a glance in Olivia’s direction. The lines that fanned from her eyes and scoured her forehead were new and emphasized the paleness of her features.
Finding a severed finger in a box was enough to send anyone into shock. Added to that was the threat that the same could happen to her. After the initial fright, she’d handled it with a steely resolve he could only admire, but the experience had taken its toll. The shadows under her eyes had grown darker with every minute.
Olivia needed something—someone—to hold on to. And right now that someone was him. Even though things had ended, he still had feelings for her. Guilt over his past gnawed at him. He couldn’t ask someone as full of faith and goodness as Olivia to share that with him. Seeing her beat herself up over what had happened to her boss tore him apart.
He’d do his best by her, if only because he didn’t know any other way. Doing his best, giving his best had been drummed into him during his Delta days. Deltas never gave in and never gave up.
Outside the police station, Sal pulled into a parking slot and turned to Olivia. Going with instinct and need, he placed his hands on her shoulders, drew her in.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she murmured against his chest. “You heard Calvin. I can’t be responsible for them hurting him again. I can still hear his screams in my mind.”
He felt the shudder race through her and tightened his grip. “You aren’t responsible. For any of it.” He waited until she stopped shaking before releasing her. “Going to the police is the right thing.”
“If you say so.” But her tone lacked conviction.
He wasn’t going to convince her, but neither could they keep evidence of a kidnapping from the police.
Olivia was an officer of the court, but she was also a woman made vulnerable by her feelings. He knew how intensely she felt things. Whether fighting for a client or fighting for a friend, she gave her all. In that respect, they were very much alike.
He wanted to reassure her that everything would be all right, but she would see that for the lie it was. The truth was, there was no guarantee that they would get Chantry back alive. The kidnappers had already proved how far they would go to achieve their ends. The only thing he could promise was that he’d give his own life before he allowed anything to happen to her.
Sal took her hand and squeezed. “Remember, you’re not alone.”
The lack of a ransom demand bothered him. Kidnappers always had an agenda. It was obvious they were trying to rattle Olivia, to frighten her into doing whatever they said when they issued the demand. But why hadn’t they done so? It made no sense.
He didn’t believe for a moment that the people who had taken Chantry would let the man go once they had what they wanted. If anything, they’d be more likely than ever to kill him, and Olivia as well.
There was something else Sal hadn’t told Olivia. They were into day two of the kidnapping, maybe more seeing as how Chantry had been unreachable two days before that. The second day was a threshold. Any possibility of a positive resolution decreased substantially after that. The situation tended to harden up, the danger to the victim rising dramatically.
Sal hadn’t shared his worries with Olivia yet. She needed time to regroup before facing the next hard truths.
The police department wasn’t filled with bored cops and surly criminals as television shows depicted. Instead, it looked like any other office made up of professional men and women going about their jobs in a purposeful fashion. The occasional shout or cry didn’t cause a dozen guns to be drawn. No, the atmosphere was one of grim purpose, flavored with the smells of old coffee and new sweat.
Sal had been in his fair share of PDs during the last several years of working for S&J. They were much like the military, with a clearly established chain of command and organizational hierarchy.
He steered Olivia to the desk sergeant where they stated their names and business to the efficient-looking woman behind the desk. A raised brow and the order to have a seat was her only response.
When a detective appeared, Olivia and Sal stood, followed him through the bull pen and went inside an office. He closed the door behind them. “Detective Richard Nynan. Now suppose you tell me what this is all about.”
Sal opened the box, indicated the finger inside and gave an overview of what had transpired.
“You say this belongs to your boss?” Nynan asked Olivia.
She nodded. “I recognized the ring.”
“No chance it could have been removed from your boss’s finger and put on—” he gestured to the severed digit “—whoever this belongs to?”
“No. The ring was custom-made for Calvin, I mean, Mr. Chantry, to reach the joint of his finger, just like it does. See how the stone tapers at the top?”
“Okay. That helps.” Nynan made notes on a legal pad. “I think I have it all.” He fixed his attention on Olivia. “You have no idea what the kidnappers want?”
“As I told you the first six times you asked the question, no, I don’t.”
“Sorry. Just trying to get things straight in my mind.” He put down his pen, scratched behind his ear. “It doesn’t fit the pattern of an ordinary kidnapping. Usually, kidnappers make their demands up front. They want their payoff right away, whether it’s money or something else.” Once again, he looked at Olivia. “This court case you talked about—could the kidnapping have something to do with that?”
“It’s possible,” she said thoughtfully. “If it goes the way I think it will, the company is going to have to pay out a huge compensation package. Twenty-one families are involved.”
“So it’s back to money.”
Sal had remained silent during the exchange, listening and thinking. He saw where the detective was going with this. “You think the kidnappers are going to barter for Chantry’s firm pulling out of the case.”
Nynan nodded. “I think it’s a strong possibility. As Ms. Hammond said, there’s bound to be a big compensation package.”
“But even if we did pull out of the case, some other firm would take over,” Olivia pointed out. “It doesn’t make sense.”
They’d been over this again and again but kept circling back to it.
“Why kidnap Chantry?” Nynan asked, more to himself than to Sal and Olivia. “Why him?” A few minutes later, Nynan stood. “I think I have all that I need for the moment. I’m sorry about your boss,” he said to Olivia.
She nodded. “Me, too.”
Outside, the Georgia sun beat down on those foolish enough to spend more than a minute under its unrelenting rays. Sal hurried Olivia to his truck, helped her inside, then circled it to slide in on the driver’s side. He punched up the AC.
“I hope we did the right thing,” she said. “What can the police do that we can’t?”
“They have resources we can’t hope to match.”
Her phone chirped. She switched it to speaker phone. “Yes?”
“You disobeyed orders.” A pause gave emphasis to the next words. “Involve the police again and your boss will be returned to you in pieces.”
* * *
Olivia was barely holding it together.
