Gunman One rolled her to her back and shoved her along the metal edge of the Mazda to the trunk.
Oh my God. They knew. She could tell by his reactions. She was right. It wasn’t a carjacking. This was a planned kidnapping of Josh Parker’s twins. Gunman One knocked her to the ground. The other men cut the seat belts holding the kids, took them from the car in their car seats, grabbing their tiny backpacks at the last minute.
How could men in ski masks be assaulting her in broad daylight and no one else see them?
“Please take me. I won’t give you any trouble. I swear I won’t. I...I can look after Jackson. Make sure he doesn’t go into shock.”
Gunman One pulled her hands. “You won’t do, sister. It’s gotta be somebody he loves.”
“Let him have crackers. Okay? He has to eat every three or four hours. Something,” she pleaded. “Sage, watch your brother!”
When this had all started, Tracey hadn’t paid attention to what the man coming to her window had looked like. An average guy that she couldn’t swear was youngish or even in his thirties. They were all decked out in college gear. She searched this man’s eyes that were bright and excited behind the green ski mask, memorizing everything about their brown darkness.
The tiny scar woven into his right eyebrow would be his downfall. He raised the butt of the gun in the air. She closed her eyes, anticipating the blow. The impact hurt, stunning her. Vision blurred, she watched them carry the twins, running to the back of the moving van. Her legs collapsed from the pain, and she hit the concrete without warning.
I’m so sorry, Josh.
How were you supposed to tell someone you’d allowed their kids to be kidnapped? Tracey would have a doctorate in nutrition soon, but none of the courses she’d taken prepared her to face Josh. Or the future.
When someone found Tracey unconscious on the sidewalk and the paramedics revived her, she’d cried out his name. She could never articulate why she was calling to him. Once fully awake and by the time anyone would listen, the twins had been missing for almost an hour. Tracey hadn’t been able to explain to Josh what had happened. The police did that.
“He’s going to hate me,” she mumbled.
“I don’t think he will. I’ve dealt with a lot of kidnappings. This isn’t your fault. Major Parker will realize that faster than most.” Special Agent George Lanning had answered her with an intelligent response.
The problem was...
“Intelligence has nothing to do with emotional, gut-wrenching pain. I lost his kids. He’ll never trust me again and I don’t blame him.”
After she awoke in the hospital, she’d only been allowed to talk with one police officer, her nurse and a doctor. The door had been left open a couple of inches. She’d recognized rangers passing by, even heard them asking about her. But the officer had refused her any visitors. At least until this FBI agent showed up.
Two hours later she was sitting in a car on her way to the Parker home to face Josh for the first time. Where else was she supposed to go? She’d refused to return to her apartment as they’d suggested. “How bad is my face?”
“As in? What context do you mean?”
She flipped down the passenger mirror to see for herself. “Well, I don’t think makeup—even if I had any—would help this.” She gently touched her cheekbone that felt ten times bigger than it should. “I don’t want to look like...”
“Tracey. Four men yanked you from a car and hit you so hard they gave you a concussion. They kidnapped Jackson and Sage. No matter what you think you could have done differently, those men would still have the Parker twins.”
She wiped another tear falling down her cheek. Agent Lanning might be correct. But nothing anyone said would ever make her feel okay about what had happened.
Nothing.
The road to the house was lined with extra cars and the yard—where they needed to park—filled with men standing around. The police escort in front of them flipped on the squad car lights with a siren burst to get people out of the way. Tracey covered her ears.
Everything hurt. Her head pounded in spite of the pain medication the doctor had given her. But she was prepared to jump out of the car as soon as it slowed down. First she needed to beg for Josh’s forgiveness. And then find out what the authorities had discovered.
“You really took a wallop,” he said. “You should probably get some rest as soon as possible.”
She had rested at the hospital, where so much had been thrown at her. Part of the argument for her going home was to sleep and meet with a forensic artist as soon as one arrived. She’d refused, telling Agent Lanning it was useless to draw a face hidden with a ski mask. Then they’d finally agreed to take her directly to Josh.
The sea of people parted and the agent parked next to cars nearer to the front porch. She didn’t wait for the engine to stop running. She jumped out, needing to explain while she still had the courage.
Moving quickly across the fading grass of the lawn, she slowed as friends stared at her running inside. She completely froze in the entryway, looking for the straight dark hair that should have towered over most of the heads in the living room. But Josh wasn’t towering anywhere. She pushed forward and someone grabbed her arm. A ranger waved him off.
Everyone directly involved in Josh’s life knew who she was. The ranger who had spotted her was Bryce Johnson. He put his hand at her back and pushed the crowd of men out of her way.
“You doing okay?” he asked, guiding her through probably every ranger who worked in or near Waco. “Need anything? Maybe some water?”
She nodded. There was already a knot in her throat preventing her from speaking. She’d assumed a lot of people would be here, but why so many? “Why aren’t you guys out looking for the twins?”
Everyone turned their attention to a man near the window seat. But she focused on the twins’ dad. Josh looked the way he did the day Gwen had died. From day one, neither of Josh or Gwen had felt like employers. They were her friends. She wanted to be there for him again, but didn’t know if he’d let her. He glanced at her, and then covered his eyes as though he were afraid to look at her.
The guy in the suit near the window jerked his head to the side and they left. All of them. Except for a woman and Josh, both seated at the opposite end of the breakfast table. They were joined by Agent Lanning, who pulled out a chair and gestured for Tracey to sit.
It was a typical waiting-on-a-ransom-demand scene from a movie. The three professionals looked the parts of FBI agents. The woman sat at something electronic that looked as if it monitored phone calls. Agent Lanning moved to the back door and turned politely to face the window. The other man, who they both seemed to defer to, uncrossed his arms and tapped Josh on the shoulder.
Josh’s head was bent, almost protected between his arms resting on the table. He hadn’t acknowledged the fact that nearly everyone had left. He hadn’t acknowledged anything.
“I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry doesn’t seem like enough,” she began.
Josh’s head jerked up along with the rest of him as he stood, tipping the chair backward to the floor. She winced at the noise. She assumed he’d be disappointed and furious and might even scream at her to get out. But feeling it, seeing it, experiencing the paralyzing fear that they might not get the kids back...
“This might sound stupid, but we need to verify that Jackson was wearing his insulin pump,” he whispered without a note of anger.
“Yes. I checked it when I picked him up.”
“Thank God. I knew you would. You always do.”