Conceal, Protect - By Carol Ericson Page 0,68
more than she had to.
“Maybe. Maybe she did it without my knowledge.”
“It would’ve been at the computer. When you were sitting at your laptop, did she have you say any words?”
Tilting her head, she wrapped her hair around one hand. “Maybe.”
That one word earned her another slap on the back of her head. She gulped back a sob. J.D. had been right. These people would never let her and Ted live, whether or not she got them into the file.
But at least Ted wouldn’t suffer alone. At least she’d tried to save him.
“I’m thinking.” She rubbed the back of her head. “Stop hitting me. It’s not helping.”
“Think harder.”
Noelle squeezed her eyes shut. What had Abby told her to repeat? Nonsense words, mostly. How would she ever remember a bunch of nonsense words? Some of the word combinations had been names, but they weren’t celebrity names or names of anyone she knew.
Her eyes flew open. J.D.’s voice filtered into her mind, his words swirling in her head. He’d told her more than she’d ever known about Abby Warren, told her of Abby’s obsession, told her the name of Abby’s obsession.
The hulk moved behind her, his cologne overpowering her senses. Curving his arm around her neck, he showed her the long syringe between his fingers. “We can help you remember, Noelle. We can help you remember a lot of things.”
Her nostrils flared. If they injected her with truth serum, they might get more than they bargained for—like the identity of her cowboy bodyguard.
She had to give them the name. She had to give them the password she’d remembered.
Or they’d never let J.D. leave Buck Ridge alive.
Chapter Seventeen
J.D. smacked his lips and groaned. His tongue felt as if it had doubled in size and he couldn’t move it around his dry mouth.
He peeled open his eyes, one at a time, his gaze lazily scanning the room.
He sat forward and nearly toppled over. The last thing he remembered was drinking wine with Noelle beside him, her body ripe for the taking.
Only he was the one who’d been taken.
She’d drugged his wine—and he knew why. That text she’d received earlier hadn’t been from Tara. He’d been stupid not to check it himself, but it never occurred to him that she’d go off on her own to meet Zendaris’s people.
Or hadn’t it?
He knew she felt responsible for the deaths of her husband and Pierpont. She wasn’t going to allow Ted’s murder to be placed at her doorstep.
She should’ve trusted him.
How much of a head start had they gotten? He rolled his wrist inward. If they’d gone by helicopter, he’d have a helluva time catching up. Even if they’d taken off in a car, Noelle had already been alone with those maniacs long enough.
He eyed the empty glass of wine on the table in front of him. It anchored a piece of white paper. He dived for it, crinkling it in his hand.
He rubbed his blurry eyes to read the message. “‘Follow my phone.’”
She hadn’t been as naive as he feared. He lunged for his own phone and placed the most important call of his life.
On the other end of the line, he heard, “Fifty-eight, sixty-two.”
J.D. didn’t even know what the digits stood for anymore. He only knew it signaled a secure Prospero connection.
“I need a location on a cell phone.”
“Code and GPS tracker, please.”
J.D. shook his head, clearing the last wisps of fog shrouding his brain. He repeated his code name and the five-digit number of the tracking device he’d placed on Noelle’s cell phone.
After a few minutes and several clicks of a keyboard, the technician came back on the line. “Ready?”
“Go ahead.”
“Location, Buck Ridge, Colorado.” He rattled off some coordinates.
J.D. punched the coordinates into his phone, which displayed a map of the area. He zoomed in to view the location, and then brought up the directions to it.
He blew out a tense breath and rolled back his shoulders. He’d use the snowmobile to get there the back way, and then he’d have to go in on foot to approach whatever structure he encountered. They had to be someplace with electricity and amenities. They wouldn’t be in a cave or in the middle of the woods.
No time for coffee; he downed a can of cola from the fridge and grabbed another on the way out. Noelle hadn’t slipped him enough of her meds to keep him out for long. She obviously wanted him to find her, but she’d wanted to do this on her own terms.