Dance With Me - By Hayden Braeburn Page 0,25

you?”

“Just that he was working on finding him. She did sound, I guess I'd call it, distraught.” She paused. “I know she's up on charges and all that, but if Mason is stepping out on her, he should be hung out to dry.”

Cassidy lifted the phone off its receiver on Rochelle's tidy desk. “Dial Priscilla for me. I want to find out what's going on.”

Rochelle did as she was asked and the two women waited while the phone rang six times before clicking over to voice mail. Instead of leaving a message, they called McClaren Properties, and finally Priscilla's parent's home before Cassidy handed Rochelle the note back. “Let's call this Alec Cartwright.”

~*~

Mason didn't know how long he spent working his ankles free, and he never wanted to see another roll of duct tape in his life, but he had succeeded. Now he just had to free his hands. He prayed he had enough time before Priscilla came back. He didn't want to die, but he wasn't going to let her rape him. God, he'd never even thought about a woman raping a man before, but if he couldn't work his way out of this mess, he was likely to experience it firsthand. At least she hadn't drugged him again. No, she had wanted him lucid and able to... He stopped himself. Failure was not an option—that was his mantra in business and it more than applied here. He continued sawing the tape against the bed's iron frame. He could do this. He would not fail.

Priscilla prepared the final syringe of the day. This one was not a sedative. Oh, no, this was an injectable prostaglandin. She grinned in the mirror. This little needle would make Mason hard and aching in minutes and he would have no choice but to give her their children. Tonight.

~*~

Kat jumped when Alec's phone almost vibrated itself off the desk. She handed it to him, but stayed right next to him to hear the conversation.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Cartwright? This is Cassidy Everett. You called earlier today.”

“Yes. We were hoping you could help us locate your brother.”

“And how do you think I can help you do that?”

“We have reason to believe your brother was abducted. We feel your friend Priscilla McClaren might be involved.”

“How the hell would she abduct him? He's a grown man, Mr. Cartwright.”

“True enough, but there are plenty of ways to obtain a victim's compliance, Ms. Everett,” Alec calmly rebutted.

“And why should I believe he's missing?”

“Believe what you want, Ms. Everett, but you said yourself you couldn't find him, even though his car was in the lot at Tyler Central Banking. His jacket, keys, and phone were in his office as well. We know he left his home at seven fifteen this morning, yet when you arrived before eleven he wasn't there, no one has been able to reach him all day, and it's now nearly four. You're an officer of the court, what would you conclude based on the evidence presented?”

The other side of the phone was quiet for a moment. “The evidence is compelling, but why assume Priscilla's involvement? Mason is from a wealthy family, is wealthy in his own right. He may have been grabbed for money.”

“Yet no one has contacted Kat nor your family for ransom. Step back from the situation and assess it as you would a case you were prosecuting. Set aside what Kat is accused of doing, and just think through everything you know. Who is the most likely suspect?”

She rattled off a cell number. “There.”

“Thank you, Ms. Everett.”

Immediately after hanging up with the skeptical Cassidy Everett, he texted Priscilla's number to Girard. If her GPS was activated, it would take no time to triangulate her location. If it was only activated for emergency services, Girard would have to work a little harder.

~*~

Dylan laughed at Priscilla's obvious clue planting. “Ya think she wants us to head towards Dulles?” he asked Sean as he gestured toward a map with a neatly drawn red circle around the international airport.

“Aside from that, is there anything useful?” Sean took two steps away from the map before stopping abruptly, the “clue” sinking in. “Who circles the airport on a map?”

“Crazy bitches, apparently.”

“Indeed.”

The two men scoured the room for anything giving the next location and found the desk chair duct taped to the floor. That was interesting. Priscilla's suit the clerk had rambled on about and a pair of heels lay in a corner with the matching pants to Everett's own suit, along with