A Billionaire's Redemption - By Cindy Dees Page 0,86

her. What else could go wrong today? She was about to get drenched. As the reality of facing the psychopath at the other end of the phone in person loomed, common sense finally began to kick in. Or maybe that was panicked survival mode kicking in. She overrode the impulse by reminding herself that a child’s life hung in the balance. Her life was worth nothing in the face of that. If she had to sacrifice herself to save an innocent, so be it.

Still, meeting this person on her own was unquestionably stupid. She had no skill at talking down a deranged lunatic. She should have called the police. Told her guards. Gotten some sort of backup. But the sound of crying echoed in her ears, and spurred her onward despite her doubts. She’d figure out something.

Now what? She was almost to the bell tower. One more street to cross, then she’d have to get off her bike and walk it across the grass to the base of the bell tower.

And then she spotted it. A beat-up white van parked at the curb to her left. It started to roll forward directly toward her. The driver had seen her. Desperation and a very belated sense of fear for her life finally penetrated the fog that had enveloped her since she’d heard Melinda Grayson accept Gabe’s proposal in the hall outside her room.

The van pulled up beside her. She wasn’t getting in that thing unless the driver turned that child loose this instant. The passenger door swung open and she stared into the maw at the familiar face.

“Get in,” the driver snapped.

“Let the kid go,” she retorted.

The driver laughed and tossed a tape recorder outside at her feet. While she stared in shock, the driver clapped once, in loud imitation of slapping someone, and then let out a perfect rendition of a small child wailing in pain and fear.

She’d been tricked? Willa took a step away from the door.

“Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast, Willa.” The small black circle of a pistol barrel came into view, pointed directly at her. She stared in horror at the promise of death staring at her. “Get in the van. Now.”

Everyone knew never to get in a car with a criminal. It was infinitely smarter to get shot in a public place where medical help and police would be summoned rapidly than it was to allow oneself to be taken someplace isolated where the kidnapper could torture and kill at their leisure and there was no hope at all of rescue.

Thing was, Gabe didn’t love her. He was going to marry Melinda. This person could still kidnap and kill her students at some later date, and Willa firmly believed the threat. Her or the kids? She had nothing left to live for, and the children had their entire lives in front of them. It was a no-brainer.

“If I go with you, you have to give me your solemn promise that you’ll never hurt any of my students. That you’ll leave them completely alone. Promise?”

“Fine. Whatever. I promise.” The driver looked around outside nervously. “Now get in.”

She stepped off her bike, laid it down on the grass and slid into the passenger seat. The van pulled away from the curb.

Chapter 18

Gabe started when one of Willa’s security guards burst into Melinda’s room. One look at the man’s tense face, and Gabe dumped Melinda unceremoniously on the bed and strode toward the door, ignoring her squawk of outrage.

“What now?” he bit out as he and the guard headed out into the hall.

The guard broke into a run and Gabe’s alarm climbed. This guy panicked was not a good sign. As they raced for the exit, the guard reported in snatches, “She ran. Got a call in her room. Went pale. My guy was suspicious. Doctors came in just then and sent her for an emergency MRI. Guard figured she was sick. She went to the restroom, climbed out the window and disappeared. We need you to go to her house. See if anything’s out of place or missing. Some clue as to where she’s gone.”

“Why her house?” Gabe asked as he jumped in the passenger side of the guy’s black SUV.

The vehicle peeled out of the parking lot in an aggressive move that had him grabbing the armrest as the guard answered, “She was wearing a hospital gown. She needed clothes. If she’s running, she needs money. Women rarely flee without stuff—a change of clothing,