Nodding stiffly at Mack, reining in his emotions, Rick uncapped a marker and began to write on the board. He exhaled deeply before speaking. “Okay. We know that Quinn most likely arrived at the Law Offices of Wheeler, Bryant, and Townsend between ten-fifteen and ten-twenty this morning. Tucker is checking nearby traffic cams to find Mack’s truck to verify the exact time.”
He scribbled the information on the board, the red marker squeaking as it slid across the slick surface.
“Our most likely suspect is Travis Garrett Hardy, deputy sheriff in Bexar County, Texas, which contains the city of San Antonio.” Rick’s face twisted into a scowl as he spit out the man’s name. “You all have his DMV picture on your sheet. We also know this piece of shit owns a home in the next county over, in…” he checked the file even though he knew all of the words on it from memory, “Bandera County. Sparsely populated, out in the middle of nowhere. It’s the perfect place to keep someone under your thumb without anyone knowing about it.” The marker continued squeaking across the white board. “However, they couldn’t have gotten back to Texas yet if that’s where he’s headed, so we’ve pulled a favor from a local guy Mack knows—former Green Beret. He’s sitting on the house to see if they show up.”
Rick scanned the room to see each of his coworkers studying the driver’s license photo in front of them, memorizing the handsome face that hid a monster. His chest suddenly burned with a rush of emotions he felt for his teammates. Every man here was not only willing to put their lives on the line for him whenever they went in the field, they were also willing to do it for Quinn without a moment’s hesitation. They truly were a family in every sense of the word, and they accepted Quinn as theirs, no questions asked. As it was, Mara Paxton was at home, inconsolable, feeling guilty for not urging Quinn to discuss her ex with Rick.
The door to the conference room opened before Rick could continue the briefing.
“Rick!”
Tucker rushed in, his clothes a mess and his Bluetooth hanging from his ear. His eyes lit up excitedly behind his glasses as he waited for Rick to respond.
“Tell me you got something, big guy. We need good news.” Rick clutched the marker in his hand, waiting for Tucker reveal what he found.
The small, sinewy man ran a hand through his tousled brown hair as he spoke. “I got a make, model, and license plate number.” He turned to address the entire room. “The bank across the street had a couple of cameras. I was able to get shots of a silver sedan pulling out of the law firm’s parking garage at ten-thirty three a.m. It took me a while to clean up the image enough—”
“Tucker! Can you just skip the technical bullshit and get to the fucking point?” Rick growled impatiently at their computer expert and bent over the conference table, his upper body braced on his locked arms. He knew he looked like a man coming unraveled, piece-by-fucking piece. Every muscle in his body seemed to twitch independently.
Tucker froze, his mouth twisted into a grimace. “I’m cutting you some slack for that comment because I know you’re stressed out. But fucking snap at me again and I’ll take your goddamn head off, Ricochet.” Tucker’s light eyes narrowed, his body tensed up and his expression hostile. Even beneath his geeky glasses and hipster clothing it was obvious that Tucker could be very dangerous when the situation called for it.
Rick hung his head in shame, sighing before looking back up at his friend, ignoring the concerned stares of his colleagues as they bounced back and forth between the two men. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Tucker. Good work. Is that all?”
“I traced the plate to a rental agency near the airport. It’s listed to a Travis G. Hardy. I’m going to scan the area’s DOT cameras to see if we can pinpoint which direction they went in. The man in the car, Rick… it’s definitely Hardy even though facial recognition software algorithm detected a dissimilarity on part of his face. Quinn isn’t visible, but she could be on the back seat or in the trunk—”
“Great, Tucker.” Mack interrupted, probably hoping to stop what he could see was going to be another meltdown by Rick if Tucker began to describe Quinn sitting in a madman’s trunk. Social niceties weren’t Tucker’s strong point. Mack slapped Tucker’s back approvingly as Rick ground his teeth together. “We’ll finish up here and I’ll let you know the plan.”
Tucker nodded and left the room without another word as Rick paced like a madman in front of the whiteboard, his agitation nearly suffocating him. He pulled at the collar of his T-shirt as if it were a rope around his neck.
“So we need to figure out where he brought her.” Dane said. “Should we assume he has a hotel room somewhere?”
Mack nodded. “That’s a good start. Xav, why don’t you join Tucker in Mission Control and search all area hotels from North Atlanta down to the airport. Start nearest to the rental car agency.”
“Will do boss man.” Xavier turned to Rick. “We’ll get her back, Ricochet.”
“I know, Xav, but she’s already been gone six hours.” Rick’s voice nearly broke from the sheer amount of pain that was constricting his chest.
Rick knew every man in the room was thinking the same thing he was. What was Travis doing to Quinn while they were wasting time tracking him down? What condition would she be in when they found her and would it be something she could survive? Something she would want to survive?
Quinn woke to the shock of freezing cold water hitting her directly in the face. She gasped, inhaling water and choking on it. The sudden movement and the coughing spasm sent agony through her bruised ribs where Travis had repeatedly kicked her.
She tried to sit up, but her body was too weak and her hands were still tied together in front of her.
“Time to get up!”
An icy chill spread over her skin, making every hair stand on end. Quinn wanted to blame it on the cold water, but she knew it was that voice. Travis. A shiver wracked her sore body.
“Ouch!” A bolt of pain shot across her scalp when Travis gripped her hair and yanked her head up. Brutally, he pulled her off of the bed, dragging her by her tangled brown ponytail as she kicked out her legs, trying desperately to get her feet under her.
“Owww!”
Quinn’s protest was short-lived when Travis kneed her in the gut to shut her up. Her breath left in a whoosh, making her lungs burn from lack of oxygen. The sharp pain caused her to stumble and fall as he continued wrenching her down the hallway.
Tears of pain and humiliation started flowing down Quinn’s cheeks. As much as she was hurting, she was furious for looking weak in front of her ex-husband, hated that he could literally bring her to her knees.
“How dare you try to divorce me, Annie! You think you’re gonna leave me?” Travis scoffed. Tired of waiting on her limping steps, he bent down and slung her over his shoulder, carrying her down the wooden staircase. Quinn bit her lip at the excruciating pain she felt from being bounced down the stairs so carelessly. At the bottom, Travis dropped her like a bag of garbage onto the sofa in the family room.
Matted and dirty, her hair hung over her face, keeping a dark curtain between her and the man she hated more than anything else in the world. Using her bound hands, Quinn rubbed at sore eyes, s