Running Strong Page 13

  “Let it go, Giselle.”

  She breathed out a ragged sigh. “Okay. All right.”

  He glanced at the bedside clock. “It’s still early. Think you can go back to sleep?”

  “I’ll be fine. Thank you for your kindness.”

  The stiffness in her tone, her body told him he had hurt her. Maybe he should’ve let her get it all out. Let her have her say. But then, where would that lead them? What would it solve?

  No, if he stayed longer and they talked, it would end one of two ways. Either they would argue, and he’d say things he’d regret. Or even worse, he would kiss her. Hell if he needed that complication.

  Chapter Sixteen

  East Hampton, New York

  Daniel Fletcher took a sip of his brandy nightcap and eyed Clarissa, who was gazing into the fire with a small smile on her face. She seemed content, happy. That was a good thing. Unless it went against a specific goal for business, he strived to make her happy.

  He and Clarissa had been married for thirty-nine years, but they’d been together much longer than that. Almost from the moment of his birth, he had known they would marry. Clarissa’s parents, Marvin and Millicent Potter, had been his parents’ best friends. It made sense that their only son, Daniel, and the Potters’ oldest daughter should marry. Social class notwithstanding, they had so much in common that not marrying would have gone against all logic.

  It had been a good match. What they lacked in warmth, they more than made up for in shared interests and goals. Carrying on the family name, the family heritage, was a full-time job. Few people realized how time-consuming and burdensome their responsibilities were. Not that he minded—they were, after all, his destiny.

  That destiny had been passed on to his son, but Danny had squandered the right. The boy had been spoiled, that much was obvious, but other children were spoiled and ended up making something of themselves. Danny never got to that point. And now he was dead, leaving them with a worthless and classless daughter-in-law to handle.

  He had never asked his son why Giselle had caught his eye. He really didn’t care. He imagined it had been a combination of things. The girl was a beauty—there was no denying that—and surprisingly sweet. She had a pleasing manner and, other than a few social blunders, had carried her role off rather well. It was unfortunate that she was the exact opposite of any girl they would have chosen for their son. Her family! It sickened him to think of it. She was the daughter of a pervert—a sleazy, low-life human trafficker.

  Danny’s marriage to the girl had been the first Fletcher scandal in decades that he had not been able to bury.

  The two had married in secret, without his knowledge or consent, which, of course, was the only way Danny could have gotten away with it. The boy had possessed a wild streak that could not be tamed. They had bailed him out of numerous scrapes and scandals, always hoping that would be the last one. But no, their son never learned his lesson. He had gone against everything he had been taught. Members of privileged society had codes and standards to uphold. Danny had known this, and the sheer defiance of those codes had resulted in a mockery and sham of a marriage. By the time they had learned the truth, nothing could be done to stop the damage.

  He and Clarissa had done the only thing they could by embracing the girl and her marriage to their only son. They had acknowledged her tragic past, heralded her courage and strength. Talked about how she and her family had been so abused and mistreated. Clarissa had made a substantial donation in Giselle’s name to an organization known to fight against human trafficking. It had played well in the press. Though the blight on their name was still there, eventually the scandal had faded away, leaving both he and Clarissa looking like paragons of charity and tolerance.

  Unfortunately, marriage hadn’t changed Danny. In only a few months, he had been up to his old antics. His death had been inevitable, he supposed.

  He had considered an overdose for the girl early on. A young wife, grieving over the death of her one true love, devastated and distraught, takes her own life, unable to live without the man she adores. A scandal to be sure—there had never been a suicide in the Fletcher family. However, it could have played well in the media. Another donation to another charity, a couple of public appearances showing their grief, and that would have been that.

  Why he had changed his mind he couldn’t really say. The girl certainly deserved what she got. Lurking in the shadows, overhearing a private business conversation, had been an unforgivable offense.

  He thought maybe the boy was the one who’d stopped him from taking that route. Every time he looked into the child’s eyes, he saw innocence and something…he couldn’t explain it. Whatever it was, it had saved his mother’s life. Putting her in an asylum had been a concession, but had she appreciated him sparing her life? Of course not. She had escaped. Death was the only option now. The child would forget her soon enough, and they could go on as before. Clarissa was exceedingly fond of the young fellow, and Daniel couldn’t deny a little affection himself for the little imp.

  Yes, he would rectify his son’s ridiculous error very soon, and then everything would be right again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  LCR Headquarters

  Alexandria, Virginia

  It was barely seven in the morning when Raphael arrived at Noah’s office. It didn’t surprise him in the least to find Noah, along with Jordan and Eden, already there. All of them looked as though they’d gotten as much sleep as he had the night before. Which had been none at all.

  Noah had apparently just dropped the bomb about Daniel Fletcher’s involvement in this mess.

  “Okay,” Eden said, “I can get on board that Reddington has help. But Daniel Fletcher? That’s insane.”

  “Not if you’d heard Giselle’s description of them,” Raphael said.

  “In-laws from hell, I get. But this? The kidnappings? The Simmons couple faking the abduction in North Korea to gain access to Noah?” She turned to him. “Getting your home address would have taken months.”

  “Not if you know the right people.”

  “Raphael’s right,” Noah said. “I’ve kept my family’s location as private as possible, but somehow someone found out.”

  “Someone with avenues to information no ordinary citizen could get,” Jordan said.

  “Okay. But how could Fletcher even be sure Giselle would hear about the abduction? There’s been nothing on the news.”

  “Fletcher asked about that when I met with him. About why he hadn’t seen reports of the abductions.” Raphael shrugged. “I assumed it was mere curiosity, but now I don’t think so. That’s probably the one thing that didn’t go in his favor. He was counting on the abductions being reported everywhere. If we hadn’t kept a lid on it, Samara’s, Micah’s, and Evie’s faces would be splashed across every news outlet in the world.”

  Understanding dawned in Eden’s gray eyes. “And when that didn’t happen, they had to improvise. That’s why the recording of your meeting with Fletcher got to Giselle.”

  “Yeah,” Raphael agreed. “I think the nanny told Fletcher that Giselle contacted her. Once Giselle saw the recording, they counted on her contacting Noah.”

  Jordan still wasn’t on board. “Why go to all that trouble? Why not just grab her at the cemetery?”

  “Beats the hell out of me. Maybe the way she was dressed kept them from identifying her. I didn’t recognize her either.”

  “So is Reddington Daniel Fletcher’s pawn?” Eden asked.

  Raphael shook his head. The bastard had his own agenda. “If he is, he doesn’t know it. He’s too arrogant not to think he’s the one in control.”

  “Do you think he has any idea the danger he’s put his daughter in?”

  “I don’t know, but I doubt he’d care. Getting to Sarah and hurting Noah are more important to him than protecting his daughter.”

  “Okay.” Jordan nodded. “I can see it now. They’re using each other to get what they want. Reddington gets to see his
family, hurting Noah in the process. And Fletcher gets Giselle out in the open.”

  “I’ve known many powerful and wealthy people, plenty of whom were corrupt. However, most of them have a reason for wanting someone dead. I’m sure Giselle’s son is a beautiful little boy, but putting his mother in a mental institution and then going to all this trouble of arranging Noah’s family’s abduction? Just to get custody of the child?” Eden shook her head. “That’s extreme even for a narcissistic sociopath. There’s got to be more to this.”

  “You’re right. There is.” Raphael told them what he had learned from Giselle last night. He didn’t tell them everything. He was still having trouble getting his head wrapped around what she had revealed. He had a son. A six-year-old little boy he had never seen who was in the clutches of an egomaniacal family that seemed both impenetrable and untouchable. As bombshells went, this was a major one.

  “He couldn’t pay her off or blackmail her,” Noah said. “To him, his only recourse is to kill her. I’m surprised he had her committed. Seems like a staged suicide would have been easy enough.”

  “Giselle agrees. Says she doesn’t know why they didn’t. Fletcher knows it was a mistake, too. One he intends to rectify.”

  Eden shot a concerned glance at Noah and then Raphael. “This could get sticky.”

  “Protecting Giselle will be a top priority,” Raphael said.

  “We have a few hours,” Jordan said. “We can work on finding another operative to pose as Giselle.”

  “I made that offer last night. She refused.” Before anyone could argue, he added, “I’ll protect her. Reddington won’t be surprised to see me with her. I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

  Noah’s cellphone chimed, and everyone held their breath.

  Putting the call on speaker, Noah answered, “Yes?”

  “Mr. McCall?” Reddington’s voice had gotten stronger the last few days. The arrogance he’d lost during his imprisonment was quickly returning.

  “Yes.”

  “I wonder if we could arrange a visit.”

  “At the prison?”

  “No. Due to special circumstances, I’ve been released.”

  Even though they already knew that, questioning how that happened was useless. The bastard wouldn’t tell the truth. The people helping Reddington had enough influence to get a man serving a life sentence in prison released. Which made Giselle’s story all the more believable.

  “Where and when?”

  “I have a few details to iron out, but for right now, let’s plan on a week from Tuesday. I’ll—”

  “Like hell, Reddington. You play your games all you want, but if I don’t have my family back by tomorrow, I’m going to—”

  “You’re going to what, Mr. McCall?” There was amusement in the voice and more than a little smugness. “Regarding your family, I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. Whoever is listening to this conversation might think I had something to do with their disappearance, and we both know that’s just not possible. I’m just one weak, broken man wanting to console another one. Having you bring my family with you is simply something you’re doing to boost my spirits. Correct?”

  “Yes,” Noah bit out. “Correct.”

  “Excellent. And since you’ve been so cooperative, let’s move up the date of your visit to me. Would tomorrow be soon enough?”

  “Yes.”

  “Excellent. I’ll be in touch.”

  Noah stood in the middle of his office and rubbed his temple where Raphael figured a headache was pounding. The man hadn’t recovered from his assault and was planning the rescue of his family, plus the takedown of the bastard responsible. Not to mention the new worry that this was all a setup to get to Giselle.

  “Okay. We’re moving forward.” Taking an audible breath, Noah turned to Jordan. “Are we ready for the first showing?”

  “Yeah. They worked through the night to get this right. I think you’ll be surprised. I know I was.” He walked over to the conference room door, knocked, and stuck his head inside. “Each of you come out one at a time. Let’s see what we’ve got. Sarah, you first.”

  The door opened wider, and a tall, middle-aged woman emerged. If Raphael hadn’t known for sure, he never would have guessed she wasn’t Sarah Reddington. The woman coming toward them walked with the slightly stiff gait of an older woman. Her ink-black hair carried a few gray strands. Lines at the corners of her rich brown eyes could be attributed to either stress or age. Her face was slightly fuller than it had been eight years ago. She was still slender, but carried a bit more weight than she had when she was younger. The makeup artist had worked wonders. No one, not even Jake Mallory, would recognize his much younger wife, Angela Delvecchio, behind the façade.

  Raphael felt a slight loosening of the muscles in his neck and shoulders. This was going to work. “Amazing. I think even Giselle might be fooled into thinking this is her mother.”

  “I agree,” Noah answered. “We haven’t seen Sarah in years, but we ran an age-progression program on her photo.” He gave Jordan a nod. “Let’s see Amelia.”

  A young woman walked out. Riley Ingram was several years older than sixteen-year-old Amelia Reddington, but once again the makeup artist had accomplished wonders. A young girl would change dramatically during her teen years, but the artist had used some of Sarah Reddington’s most pronounced features and given them to Riley Ingram. Not only did Riley look years younger, she was a miniature version of Sarah. Raphael thought she looked a lot like Giselle had when he’d first met her.

  “Excellent. Now Eric.”

  This was the one who concerned everyone the most. Reddington placed a higher value on males than females. He would pay attention to Sarah simply because he considered her his property and would assess her as such. He might or might not even glance at Giselle or Amelia. He would, however, want to see Eric, his youngest son.

  Having Mia Ryker pose as an eleven-year-old boy was a chance they’d had no choice but to take. Mia was a trained LCR operative. If things went bad, she, like the other fake members of Reddington’s family, would know how to react.

  Mia walked through the door, and Raphael felt his tension ease considerably more. Mia had even adopted a slight, boyish swagger. A short, dark brown wig covered her hair. Her chin was narrower, her mouth less full. Her shoulders were broader, her chest flat. She wore tan slacks and a button-down white shirt. She looked like a preteen boy. More important, she looked like she could be Reddington’s son.

  “That’s incredible,” Eden said and then laughed. “Jared will not believe his eyes.”

  Mia grinned, and Raphael saw a glimpse of the pretty Mia behind the boyish disguise. “It’ll freak him out, which is exactly why I’m getting some photos made.”

  “Stay in costume,” Noah advised. “When Reddington calls with the location, I want to make sure we’re ready to go on a moment’s notice.” He shot a glance at Raphael. “Will Giselle be ready?”

  “Yes. She’ll be ready.”

  He thought about how she’d looked this morning. Before he left the cabin, he’d checked in on her. She’d been sitting in a chair by the window, already dressed. The terror he’d seen in her eyes after her nightmare the night before had been replaced with resolve. Though she had still looked pale and exhausted, he had seen she was determined to see this through.

  “She okay with what’s on her agenda today?”

  “Loretta and her team arrived just before I left. She’s getting the full treatment.”

  ***

  LCR Safe House

  Of all the things Giselle thought she would be doing this morning, getting a spa treatment hadn’t been one of them. She understood the reasoning behind it, but considering everything that was going on in her life, it seemed almost ridiculous.

  After Raphael had left her last night, she’d been unable to go back to sleep. After tossing and turning for hours, she’d gotten up, showered, and dressed, ignoring the fact that it was only a little after fo
ur in the morning.

  She knew she looked like a worn-out shell of the girl she used to be. Raphael had stopped in before he’d left this morning, and though he hadn’t said anything, she had seen the concern behind the anger. Having Reddington see her looking like a zombie would not help.

  For the most part, she had put the memories of her life with the man who fathered her out of her mind. Despite his evilness, there weren’t that many bad ones—at least not for her. It wasn’t until later that she’d realized the reason. She simply hadn’t mattered to him. As long as she had behaved herself and stayed out of his way, her existence had been superfluous. His only requirement of her, other than to cause him no problems, had been to always look pretty. Anything else, like her intellect, hopes, wishes, or dreams, had been unimportant.

  So, despite her distaste for doing anything that would please Reddington, looking healthy and pretty was an important component of a successful mission. She would do everything LCR asked of her. Ensuring Noah McCall’s family was returned safe and sound was of utmost importance to her.

  The people LCR had sent over to make her look the total opposite of how she felt had agreed with her assessment of her looks. The woman in charge, Loretta Foster, had shrieked in dramatic horror and then assured Giselle that she was a beauty miracle worker. Her face wreathed with a kind smile, she’d told Giselle to sit back, relax, and let the magic begin.

  After an hour-long massage, plus a facial, manicure, pedicure, and a full-body skin refinement treatment, Giselle had to admit she did feel more relaxed than she had in months. Loretta’s deft hands had cut and styled her hair, and the results were amazing.

  She stood before the mirror, stunned at the transformation. She looked like she used to look, before her hell began.

  “Now none of that, darling. That mouth gets any droopier, you’re going to be mistaken for a basset hound.”

  “Sorry.”

  She gave Giselle’s shoulder a motherly pat. “There, there. Nobody’s better at rescuing and saving people than Last Chance Rescue. They saved my nephew and his girlfriend a couple years back from something awful. Whoever they’re working to save for you, they’ll pull it off. Don’t you worry.”