The Alpha - Joel Abernathy Page 0,47
wrong when his phone finally buzzed. He wasted no time pulling around to the back of the bar, and sure enough, Andrew walked out with a semiconscious Stephanie leaning on his shoulder.
Colt only felt slightly less shady for the reminder that she was a monster who had probably killed countless innocent humans in her lifetime, if the West family’s reputation was to be believed. They were, after all, council members who could get away with just about anything.
Or at least, they were.
Colt looked around to make sure no one else was watching, but the bar wasn’t in a heavily populated area, and he didn’t see any CCTV cameras. Even if there were, it wouldn’t be that much of a problem to take care of the footage of the kidnapping with his contacts. More of a pain in the ass than anything.
“Trunk?” Colt asked gruffly.
Andrew gave him an exhausted look. “Sure, if you want to look as suspicious as possible.”
Stephanie moaned unintelligibly as Colt opened the door, letting Andrew help her into the backseat. He cuffed her hands and shut the door, glancing around the empty lot before he got into the car. “Now what?”
Colt picked up the burner phone he had purchased for the occasion. “Now we call Mrs. West.”
Colt took a deep breath and raised the voice distortion microphone to his mouth as he dialed the number. He’d tested it out, and it seemed to serve its purpose well enough. He wasn’t sure if his voice was recognizable to anyone outside the Kinship, but he wasn’t going to take the risk.
The phone rang three times before a woman’s voice finally answered. “Hello?”
Colt was about to ruin her day and make the scam caller she probably assumed he was look like a walk in the park. “Listen carefully. I’ve got a message from Christopher.”
For a few seconds, the woman didn’t respond. The only sound on the other line was her shuddering breath. “Is this a sick joke?”
“Are you alone?” Colt demanded. If nothing else, Peter had taught him the rules of engagement for hostage negotiation.
Another pause. “Yes.”
“That had better be the case if you want to see your daughter again.”
He heard a faint gasp, followed by the sound of walking. A door shut, and she answered in a lower voice, “Who are you, and how do I know this isn’t just some kind of twisted prank?”
Colt didn’t answer. Instead, he snapped a picture of the woman lying down in the backseat and sent it to Mrs. West. He knew as soon as she received the picture because he heard her strangled cry.
“What do you want?” she demanded, her voice strained with hatred and fear.
“Your husband was a council member. During that time, he chose a Plague Doctor. Now, considering how long you’ve been together, I’m willing to bet he shared more than just office cooler gossip with you. Give me an address, and you get Stephanie back in one piece.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“That’s a shame,” Colt said casually. “I guess we’re done here.”
“No,” she cried, her voice shrill and horrified. “I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you who it is, but you have to bring her back.”
“That’s not how this works. You don’t make the rules. And I already know it’s Vaughn, I just need an address. If it pans out, you’ll see your daughter again. If it doesn’t, I guess you get to start over with a brand-new life.”
“You’re a monster.”
“You have two minutes,” Colt said, hanging up. When he looked up, Andrew was watching him with an unreadable expression on his face. “Having second thoughts?”
Andrew’s grip tightened on the wheel even though they were still parked. “I’m just starting to lose track of whose side I’m on.”
“You and me both,” Colt muttered.
His phone buzzed. Just a name and address. The place wasn’t far off, either. Only a couple of hours away in western Connecticut. One of the benefits of living in Rhode Island was that nothing in New England was ever really more than a day trip away.
Colt put the address into the GPS. “Drive.”
For once, Andrew complied without a word. Not that there was anything left to say. Whatever the reason they had for doing this, however sadistic their victims were, neither one of them could sustain the delusion that they were acting as heroes.
No matter what his intentions were, Colt knew he no longer had any room to judge people like the Wests. No matter how hard he had tried to retain his