Page 20 of Illusive
“Another of the three suspects we’re aware of was found in that car, in the passenger seat. We’re still investigating whether there were others in the original SUV that might’ve taken additional vehicles, and if so, which one Ireland is being transported in.”
“Like a fucking shell game?” Gideon bit out, his growing terror overriding his fury. He was aware, as perhaps only a man who’d survived childhood sexual assault could be, that there were some violations worse than death. “And let me guess, the driver we couldn’t see in the videos from the hotel is the one who’s still out there. So, we have no idea who we’re looking for.”
“We’re looking for Ireland,” Shelley corrected. “Getting her back is the goal. Right now, you need to get home so detectivescan set up a wiretap in case the abductors try to reach you there. If you’re not already recording the calls coming through your switchboard at all hours, you should arrange to do so. Monitor your social media messages and any numbers you have at secondary residences. Make sure that whatever channel the abductors try to reach you through, they can get you immediately. We’ll have a hostage negotiator with you to assist.”
“Much of that is already in place,” Gideon told her. “Victor might’ve told you that we’ve been having some safety concerns lately.”
She nodded. “I’m aware, and that will be investigated as well, whether it’s related or not. I know how capable your team is, but please keep in mind that the NYPD has access to resources you don’t, and that this case is very much a priority. Working together is the best way to ensure we bring Ireland home safe.”
“I understand that.”
“And make sure you run any statements to the press by the detectives first,” she warned. “What you reveal and conceal is crucial to maintaining the integrity of this case. And please, trust the negotiator’s advice and follow their instructions. The abductors need to feel as if they’re in charge, or things can quickly disintegrate.”
“Of course,” he assured her, even though it went against his better judgment. He handled high-stakes negotiations personally, approaching them in ways specific to him. That the stakes were the highest they could be made it especially difficult to relinquish control.
“We’ll head home now,” Eva said. “And pray we’ve already been contacted. While it’s terrifying that two men are already dead, that’s two fewer people Ireland has to defend herself against. If there’s just one guy left, she has at least a chance of getting the upper hand.”
Shelley nodded. “Keep thinking positive. Detectives will meet you at your home. And if you have questions, ask. Call me anytime. I’m as much a resource for you as I am to the detectives.”
“Thank you, Shelley.”
Gideon dreaded the coming hours. To ask him to do nothing but wait…
Ireland… Please, hold on…
For the briefest of blessed moments, Ireland was free of fear.
It was the pervasive pain that broke into her awareness first. From the roots of her hair to the soles of her feet. Every inch of skin, every bone, every joint throbbed and ached. A sledgehammer beat against the inside of her skull. The roots of her teeth were hot. Her jaw ached. Her left elbow could scarcely bend. Was it broken? Her tongue was thick and sore.
Confusion struck next. She stretched against the stiffness…
Agony spread like wildfire. She was yanked from the lingering fog of unconsciousness into a stark, brutal reality. Her eyes opened.
There was only unrelenting blackness.
She blinked rapidly…scrubbed at her eyes… She cried out, momentarily paralyzed by such profound horror.
Am I blind?!
Her sob resounded too loudly, betraying an enclosed space around her. Panicked, she rolled onto her side, screaming as a tender spot on her thigh exploded with heat and radiated agony.
He kicked me.
Oh, god!
She turned over onto her belly with a groan, feeling immediate relief to the back of her head. Touching it gingerly, she felt a tender and swollen knot the size of a golf ball. Memories began trickling past the fog of bewilderment. With them came the terror.
Memories assailed her in a searing rush. Ireland pushed onto her hands and knees…
Her stomach roiled. A surge of hot, acidic bile gushed up her throat and filled her mouth. The utter darkness around her seemed to spin. The splitting headache felt like ice picks in her temples. Her elbows collapsed, and she lowered her head to the floor. Resting her forehead against the cool ground, Ireland opened her mouth so that the bile spilled out and willed the nausea away.
She couldn’t tell if she passed out or if she simply solidified into stone any time she stopped moving. She only knew that when she attempted to move again, it was excruciating to get to her feet. At some point, she’d lost her heels…
Or someone took them.
Kneeling, she grasped frantically for her phone. Hot tears stung her eyes to find the holster on her thigh empty. Her gown’s hem was wet, crusting around the edges as the mystery liquid dried. Lifting the material to her nose, she smelled. Blood…?Is it mine?
Gideon.
