The Perfect Murder by Kat Martin

TWENTY-SIX

Reese knew how to use a fingerprint kit. You didn’t have brothers, uncles, aunts, and friends all in law enforcement and not know the basics of how things like that worked. But Kenzie was sure the men had worn latex gloves, so their best hope was blood DNA.

His smile turned wolfish. There was blood on her keys and on the carpet, blood on her robe. She’d made them hurt and good for her. Unfortunately, Kenzie had showered off the blood and skin under her fingernails. His jaw hardened. She had fought them hard. Reese wanted to send both the bastards straight to hell.

Instead, he swabbed blood samples and bagged them, bagged the robe Kenzie had been wearing, then they went outside to see what else they could find.

“They must have carried the ladder in through the back gate and left the same way,” Kenzie said, her gaze going around the small enclosed patio.

Reese looked up at the window, still open, the curtain fluttering in the faint, moist breeze. “Takes a good-sized ladder to get up that high. They must have been driving a van or a pickup.”

“Maybe one of the neighbors saw something.”

“Maybe. But until we know what’s going on, we can’t risk asking too many questions.”

“Mrs. Landsdale has frequent insomnia. She’s our neighbor across the street. She’s a nice old lady but she’s nosy. Maybe she saw something that could help us.”

He nodded. “Let’s finish this and get it off to the lab. If we still haven’t gotten a call, maybe you can talk to her.”

As soon as they were back in the house, Reese called the office and spoke to his executive VP, Vincent Salvador. Reese told Vince he had a family emergency and was taking time off, asked him to take the helm until further notice.

“Anything I can do to help?” Vince was smart, ambitious, and good at his job.

“Yeah,” Reese said. “Keep everything running smoothly. If you have a problem, call my private number.” Reese gave him the disposable number. “But it better be important.”

“I’ll handle things, Reese. Don’t worry.”

Next he spoke to Louise, told her roughly the same story, gave her the same number, and added that Kenzie would be helping him until the situation was resolved.

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Louise said.

“I will. Thanks.”

Next he called for a messenger to pick up the evidence he had bagged at Kenzie’s house. The package was to be delivered to Dallas Diagnostic Services, a private DNA testing lab that Chase used, a business primarily involved in determining paternity.

In this case, once the results were back, they’d be run through DNA databases in search of a match. Nothing they found would stand up in court, and without law enforcement, getting results could be tricky, but Reese figured Chase or Tabby could get it done.

Unfortunately, it was going to take time.

The messenger left with the package but still no word from the kidnappers. Gran was keeping herself busy working in the kitchen. She was diligently making soup and sandwiches, though it was unlikely anyone was in the mood to eat. When the plates sat untouched on the table, she went into her room and closed the door. Reese had a feeling she was crying and didn’t want anyone to see.

Kenzie sat stiffly at the kitchen table, Reese across from her, both of them edgy, neither of them good at waiting.

“Why won’t they call?” Kenzie asked, pushing up from her chair, pacing over to the window to stare outside at nothing in particular. Her face was pale beneath the darkening bruises, her hair, pulled into a messy ponytail, was still damp from the shower. She looked younger, fragile, and more vulnerable than he had ever seen her. Her heartbreak touched feelings inside him that Reese had believed long dead.

“They haven’t called because they’re letting us know who’s in control,” he said. “It’s a negotiating tactic.” One he had used himself, though the stakes had never been life and death.

He saw Kenzie’s lips moving, knew she was saying a prayer for Griff’s safety.

“These guys had this well planned,” he said when she returned to the table, trembling as she sat back down. He wished there was something he could do, something besides just sit and wait.

“They knew which room was his,” he continued. “They brought their own ladder, probably used chloroform or something similar to subdue him. They’ve thought this through, which means they probably know we’re going to want proof of life. They aren’t going to do anything to harm Griff until they get what they want. He should be okay until then.”

She made a sound in her throat. “Until then? Until we pay them? And then what? Then they kill him?”

The tears glistening in her eyes drove him up from his chair. He pulled her into his arms. “That’s not going to happen. We’re going to find him and bring him home.” He caught her chin, tipped her head up, and softly kissed her. “Do you believe me?”

A resigned sigh whispered out. “I have to believe you. I can’t allow myself to imagine the alternative.”

The ringing of a cell phone ended the moment and Reese let her go. Kenzie’s worried eyes flashed to his. He nodded and she picked up the phone, held it so he could hear.

“This is Kenzie.”

“I believe I have something you want.” The voice was unrecognizable, completely distorted by some kind of device. It sounded like a steel guitar string turned into words.

“Let me talk to my son,” Kenzie said. “I need to know he’s all right.”

“All in due course,” the eerie metallic voice answered. “Is your boyfriend there? I imagine you called him first thing.”

He caught a flash of fear in her face, then it was gone. “You didn’t tell me not to. You said not to call the police.”

“Don’t worry, I’m glad he’s there. You see, it’s going to be up to Reese whether your son lives or dies.”

Kenzie swayed. Reese reached out to steady her as he battled the fury sweeping through him. He took the phone from Kenzie’s trembling hand, set it down on the table, and hit the speaker button. “How much do you want? Whatever it is, you won’t get a dime until we know Griff’s all right.”

“You don’t understand,” the metallic voice said. “It isn’t your money I want. Money won’t buy the return of the boy.”

He flicked a glance at Kenzie, read the shock on her face. “What, then? What do you want?”

“I want you to give up the Poseidon. I want you to pull out of the deal.”

Icy calm replaced his fury. “That’s what this is about? You kidnapped an innocent child to force my company to give up a business venture?”

“It isn’t quite as simple as you make it sound. There are ramifications you wouldn’t understand, but yes. That’s what it will take for the boy to be returned to his mother.”

Reese’s mind was spinning, going back to what his brother had said. Give them what they want and they might kill the boy, anyway. He thought of everything that had happened. The accidents. The helicopter crash leaving two men dead. The mechanic responsible found murdered.

It was a ruthless pattern he couldn’t ignore.

“Reese...?” Kenzie’s terrified voice snapped him back to the moment.

“I’ll abandon our position in the deal if that’s what you want, but it’s going to take some time. There are papers to file, lawyers on both sides. They’ll have to negotiate the terms of the cancellation. Nothing happens quickly when that kind of money is involved. Before I do anything, I need to know the boy is okay. Put him on the phone.”

Kenzie moved closer to the table. There was a shuffling sound and Griff’s voice came over the line.

“Mom? Is that you?”

“Griff.” Tears sprang into her eyes. “Oh, baby, are you okay? They haven’t hurt you?”

“I’m locked in a room someplace but I don’t know where it is. They wear ski masks whenever they come in. I’m scared, Mom.”

“We’re going to bring you home, Griff,” Reese said firmly. “Just do what they tell you until we can make that happen.”

Kenzie leaned toward the phone as if she wanted to get closer to her son. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love—”

The phone jerked away and the metallic voice resumed. “As you heard, the boy is fine. He’ll stay that way as long as you keep your end of the bargain.”

“We’ll expect to talk to him again before I sign the papers.”

“Fine. You’ve got three days. Get it done by close of business on Thursday or the kid dies.”

As soon as the call came to an end, Reese grabbed the disposable and hit Tabby’s contact number. “The kidnappers just called. You able to get a trace?”

“I’m on it, but so far it’s pinging all over the country. I’ll keep after it. It might take a while.”

“Keep me posted.” The line went dead.

Kenzie collapsed into a chair, tears streaking down her cheeks. She wiped them away and looked up at Reese. “I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe they kidnapped Griff to force you to back out of a business deal.”

Reese’s eyes, a hard, icy blue, lashed into hers. His jaw was set, his features grim. She had never seen such controlled fury in his face.

“They’re going to wish they hadn’t touched him,” Reese said. “They’re going to wish they had never set their sights on that oil rig.”

“That’s what’s been going on all along,” Kenzie said. “The accidents, the crash. More accidents. Then they killed the mechanic who sabotaged the helicopter.”

Reese seemed to force his fury back inside. “Probably to keep him quiet. They’ve been escalating, growing more and more determined to get what they want.”

He looked down at her and she read the guilt he was feeling. “I’m sorry this happened to you,” he said. “To Griff. I feel responsible. Derek Stiles tried to convince me to back out of the purchase, but I wouldn’t do it. Now these men have your son.”

“It’s not your fault, Reese. You had no way of knowing this would happen.”

“Maybe not, but I’m going to fix it.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the disposable phone, hit a number in the contacts.

“Who are you calling?” she asked.

“My brother.”

Renewed fear hit her. The men had warned her not to involve Reese’s brothers. But the truth was they couldn’t do this alone. They had to trust someone and Reese trusted Chase.

Kenzie grabbed his arm, her fingers digging into his biceps. “I want to hear what he says.”

Reese pushed the speaker button, set the phone on the table. “They called,” he said when Chase answered. “They want me to back out of the Poseidon deal.”

“For Chrissake, that’s what this is about? The accidents? The chopper crash? They want the rig that badly?”

“It’s more than that, apparently. Whatever’s going on, it’s linked to something bigger.”

For a moment, Chase fell silent. “Lee Haines’s murder. It has to be part of this. Linked in some way. Too much going on for his death to just be coincidence.”

“I didn’t kill him,” Kenzie said. “I swear I didn’t.”

She could hear Chase shifting the phone from one ear to the other. “Reese believed you from the start. Now your innocence is becoming more and more apparent. They’ve got your boy. Murder and kidnapping? Whatever’s going on, it’s big. You just need to believe that no matter what happens, we’re going to figure it out.”

“We’re going to get your son back,” Reese promised.

“For that to happen,” Chase said, “we need to make plans.”

Kenzie didn’t argue. She trusted the men to help her. But she refused to stand idle. She would do whatever was necessary to help her son.

The brothers talked, laid out some sort of strategy, but Kenzie’s mind was on Griff and the terror she had heard in his voice. She imagined him locked in a dark room, men in ski masks standing guard over him.

Her throat closed up. Everything inside her felt icy cold.

When Gran appeared in the kitchen, Kenzie walked over and hugged her. Gran hugged her back, both of them holding on longer than they usually did. With a shaky breath, she explained the phone call, told her grandmother that she had spoken to Griff and that he was all right. Gran nodded dully. She looked haggard and pale, as brittle as a fallen leaf.

“We’re going to get him back,” Kenzie told her. “Reese and his brother are working on it. He’s going to be okay.”

Gran said nothing. Kenzie closed her eyes and tried to convince herself to believe it.