Holding his Hostage - Amy Gamet Page 0,16

dollars, much less drive all the way from Chicago to New York to do it. And it was just days after her husband died, for Christ’s sake. She should be in mourning, not desperate for cash and anxious as a bird flying over the ocean.

He rounded the service desk, nodding at a neighbor, more convinced with every step there was more to Jo’s situation than met the eye. What kind of person would he be if he just let her walk out the door, ignoring his sense that something was terribly wrong? Lucas had said they couldn’t go home. What did Sloan need? A personal invitation to intervene?

He could convince her to stay with him for a while, at least a few days. See if he could get her to open up, even if that meant walking on ice that had barely frozen over. He’d cared for her once. The least he could do was be a true friend to her now, or at least try.

He pushed out of the bank and got into his car.

Jo was frantic. “We have to get back. We shouldn’t have left April and Lucas alone.”

“What’s going on?” He drove out of the parking lot. “Did something happen?”

“Please, just hurry.”

“Damn it, Joanne! What the hell is going on?” He swerved through traffic and ran a light as it turned red, his tires fighting for traction on the snow-covered road. “Are you in trouble? Is someone trying to hurt you?”

“I thought I could just get away, that we could start over somewhere new and he wouldn’t find us.”

“Who?”

“David owed someone millions of dollars and if I don’t give it back to him within a week...” She looked over her shoulder at Fiona. When she spoke again, it was a whisper. “He’s going to kill one of the children. He said if I went to the police, he’d kill them all.”

“Jesus, Joanne, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now. He was at the bank.”

“Who?”

“The man! Richard Bannon. I think he’s a mobster. I’m not honestly sure.”

Sloan twisted in his seat. “Just now?”

“I don’t know how he found us. I didn’t think we were followed. I was careful.” She let out a single panicked sob. “He said I shouldn’t have left the other two home alone.”

“Goddamn it.” He drove even faster, passing a minivan over a double yellow line. “They must have put some kind of GPS tracker on your car.”

“I didn’t intend to bring you into this. I thought with some money I could hide and keep us safe.”

“We need HERO Force.”

“I can’t afford—”

“I’ve got it.” He punched in Mac’s number on speed dial. When the old man answered, he barked, “Mac, we’ve got a problem. I need backup at my house, pronto. As many men as you can spare.”

10

Sometime between the slalom home from the bank and the arrival of the men from HERO Force, Joanne had lost complete control of the situation. “How do we know they won’t just follow us again?” she asked.

Mac paced the length of the kitchen with sure, steady steps. “Friend of mine runs the local state police barracks. He’s setting us up with a roadblock at the entrance to the thruway.”

The front door opened and one of the SEALs walked in. Jo thought his name was Champion, but they all seemed to have nicknames and she was thoroughly confused. “There’s nothing on the Porsche. No transponder, no anything,” he said.

“Search their belongings,” ordered Mac, the kids moving faster than Jo had ever seen them move, bringing their duffel bags for the man to inspect.

Joanne turned to Sloan. “Are you sure your mom won’t mind if we take the RV?”

“Thirty-two feet of freedom has never been more necessary. She’d do anything for you. You know that.”

Her heart squeezed with emotion. Evelyn Nowak had been more like a mother than Joanne’s real mom had ever been, and truth be told, she’d missed Sloan’s mom terribly over the years. The idea that she would bend over backwards to help her and her kids nearly broke her fragile composure.

Mac stopped in front of them. “You’re sure this is what you want to do? Not too late to change your mind and go to the police.”

They’d been discussing this for hours, both before Mac and his team arrived and after. Jo had limited options. Try to find the money and return it to its rightful owner, go to the authorities, or do as she’d originally planned and run away. While that was her favorite