Reckoning (Wolfes of Manhattan 5)

“So you’re saying it was a small boat.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Not a yacht by any means, which is odd.”

“Not so odd if Dad was keeping the place a secret,” Reid said.

Rock cleared his throat. “Okay. Reid, you work on our FAA clearance. I’ll research the coordinates and figure out where we need to go.”

“Just a minute.” I said. “Exactly where are we going to get the necessary identification to leave th—”

Reid’s phone buzzed. He took it out of his pocket and glanced at it. “It’s Nieves.”

“By all means take it,” Rock said.

The rest of us murmured our agreement.

“Hey,” Reid said into the phone. “Ready to talk?”

His eyebrows nearly flew off his forehead.

“What?” A pause. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll look into it. Keep in touch.”

“What is it?” Rock asked.

“Damn it!” Reid scratched at his scalp furiously. “It’s Nieves. She’s gone.”

“But that was her phone number,” I said. “Right?”

“Yeah. She left her purse at the hospital, and Leta used her phone to get my number.

“She left her purse?” I asked.

“That’s a clue right there,” Riley said. “Women don’t leave their purses.”

“Leta’s not sure when she left,” Reid went on. “She’s in and out of sleep, but the fact that Nieves’s purse is still there…”

“Yeah,” I said. “Not good.”

“This is ridiculous,” Reid said. “My Zee is gone, and—”

“Wait,” Riley said. “Your Zee?”

“Yeah, sis.” Reid sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I love her. I want her back desperately.”

Riley wanted to smile, but it was clear that given the situation, she just couldn’t. None of us could.

“Can we assume that whoever took Zee also took Nieves?” Rock asked.

“We can,” I countered, “but it’s just as likely they were taken by different people. They’ve been dealing with different people.”

“Wrong,” Reid said. “They’ve both been dealing with us. We’re the common thread. I put Zee in danger when I swore I’d protect her.”

“We’ll get her back, bro,” Rock said. “We’ll protect our women from harm.”

Reid nodded, and an indecipherable look passed between them.

A look that scared me more than a little.

19

Reid

My buddy at the FBI, Steve Swanson, sat across from me in a Manhattan diner. He’d taken a train down, and I chose a place no one would suspect. Or even if they did, they wouldn’t have had time to place any surveillance equipment.

“I can get you what you need, Reid,” Steve said, “but I won’t lie. It’s going to cost a mint.”

“I don’t care. We need passports and New York State driver’s licenses. Actually, driver’s licenses for a different state. Let’s say…Nebraska. For Rock and me.”

“No one else?”

I shook my head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“All right. That cuts it down a little, but not much. And I suppose you want all of this yesterday?”

I let out a huff. “Yeah. Yesterday’s good.”

“I can hack into our files and use the photos in the database. I’ll need names and addresses.”

“Make it up for all I care.”

He nodded. “Yeah, we can do that. Do you want to be brothers?”

“You tell me.”

“Normally I’d say no, but the two of you are dead ringers for each other. And for your father.”

“Fuck it.”

Steve tapped on his laptop. “Shit. Rock doesn’t have a passport on file and he doesn’t have a New York ID.”

“He just moved from Montana.”

“Right.” He tapped some more. “Yeah, here’s a photo. I can use it, but his hair is long.”

“He was a biker and construction worker.”

“I’ll make it work. I can Photoshop it some. What’s the most time you can give me?”

“Twelve hours.”

“Can’t do it. Make it twenty-four and it’s done.”

Twenty-four hours. It might take that long to get flights anyway. But Zee… The longer she was out there…

Suck it up, I told myself. “Done. I’ll wire the money to the usual place.”

“Sounds good.” He flipped his laptop shut. “I’ll be in touch.”

I nodded as Steve looked guardedly around the diner, stood, and left. Then I toyed with the fries on my plate.

I wasn’t hungry, but what had I told Zee? That she needed to eat. If I was going to be strong for her, I needed to eat as well.

I picked up my burger and took a bite.

It had no flavor.

An hour later, I paced the living room of my place when my phone buzzed. Riley.

“Hey, sis.”

“I’ll come straight to the point,” she said. “Matt and I are going to Helena.”

“No, you’re not.”

“It’s not up for negotiation. We’re going.”

“You don’t have a fake ID.”

“You’re wrong. I have two fake IDs. Dad gave them to me himself.”

Of course. And they were no doubt ironclad, if Dad had arranged them.

“And Matt doesn’t need any,” she continued, “as he’s not under any order not to leave the state.”

“Why do you want to go?” I asked.

“Someone has to talk to Leta Romero. Now that Nieves is gone, she’s the only one who knows what they were up to.”

“She’s still in the hospital.”

“So?”

“So, the exorbitant amount of money I shelled out for their round-the-clock security was obviously for nothing.”