Dusk (Dangerous Web #1) - Aleatha Romig Page 0,10

nothing like I’d known growing up in a Chicago suburb. There were no paved streets. No brick apartment buildings. No row of houses. There was only nature.

“Reid,” Sparrow said.

“Yes?” I replied, shaking off the memory the view evoked.

“We need you. Keep your head in the game.”

I couldn’t let myself slip into the black hole of memories of my wife. There were too many. I could be lost for days.

“I’m here,” I said as I followed the other three men into a waiting large SUV. The man driving was a trusted employee of Mason’s ranch. Patrick took the front passenger seat, Sparrow and I sat in the middle, and Mason did his best to fit into the third seat. His long legs came out between Sparrow’s and my bucket seats.

“I could have called for two cars,” Mason said, “but I thought we might want to keep brainstorming.”

“Explain what you found with the security in more detail,” Sparrow said to Mason.

What he meant was explain it in a way he could understand. The technical jargon was not Sparrow’s specialty. It wasn’t that he lacked intelligence. It was that between the four of us, we had a broad range of knowledge. I paled in comparison to Sparrow when it came to real estate and acquiring assets through legal dealings such as he did day in and day out with Sparrow Enterprises. His knowledge was hard learned from his father as well as self-taught and fueled by his education.

I was the same but with differing knowledge. I’d studied computer engineering at MIT, yet my education never stopped. Before MIT, the army was my teacher. Since, it had been life and opportunity. Patrick’s education at University of Chicago Booth, Sparrow’s at University of Michigan, and Mason’s at Northwestern, as well as mine, were all for one reason: to make the Sparrow outfit superior, not only physically but intellectually.

“I can’t get to a total of the missing thirty minutes,” Mason said. “Right now, all I can confirm is that the airspace over the ranch was compromised. I’m suspecting that the kidnappers came in and went out via helicopter.”

“And neither Madeline nor Laurel heard it?” I asked.

“They both fell asleep. Madeline didn’t realize it was drug induced,” Patrick said. “She simply thought she was tired after lunch. The baby has been zapping her energy.”

“And Laurel didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until Garrett woke her,” Mason added. He leaned forward between the seats. “I think we can assume the same for Lorna and Araneae. They fell asleep or were at least unaware.”

“Like GHB?” Sparrow asked.

Patrick nodded. “Until we get blood tests back on Maddie and Laurel, we won’t know for sure. But I’ve done some research. There isn’t a lot known regarding GHB in pregnancy. It’s believed to cross the placenta. The positive part is that the effects hit hard and the drug is quickly metabolized.”

“What did the doctor who came to the ranch say?” Sparrow asked.

Patrick responded, “Laurel, Maddie, and the baby are fine. We can only assume your baby is the same.”

Sparrow turned to the window as the Montana scenery passed by. “I’ve never felt so fucking impotent.” Just as quickly, he turned back. “Who gave it to them?”

We all stared his direction.

“Think about it. The women were all drugged. The airspace was breached. Neither Laurel nor Madeline heard anything. They had to have ingested the drug prior to the kidnappers arriving. If Madeline and Laurel ingested it before they left the kitchen, when did they ingest it? Who drugged them? It couldn’t be the kidnapper if he or she arrived via helicopter later.”

“You’re right,” I said. “Seth?”

Before anyone could answer that question, Patrick turned back to us. “Garrett?”

“You said you trusted him,” Mason said from the back of the SUV.

“Who else was there?” I asked, not wanting to believe the worst about either man.

“Find out who has been in the main house in the last twenty-four hours,” Sparrow said. “Every single person will come face-to-face with me. I want them at the house.”

Both Patrick and Mason began typing on their phones, sending text messages to whoever could accomplish Sparrow’s order.

“Garrett texted,” Patrick said. “He said Laurel thinks it could have been the lemonade. It’s all she can figure out that they all four consumed.”

The SUV came to a large iron gate—Jackson Ranch embossed over the top. The ranch was named anew after a fire consumed the original main house. The name Jackson was in honor of a deceased friend of Mason’s.

The gate wasn’t manned with