vittanos willow (26 page)

diately said, “I know. The first time we met I thought it was Hondo as

well.”

Ethan smiled before a serious look crossed his face. “This is

what we know. Marvin Whittle didn’t die from the gunshots.” At

Osten’s skeptical look, he clarified, “They were minor; and though he

could have died from blood loss, he didn’t. He was poisoned. And

sodomized.”

Osten didn’t object to the chair Tyson pulled out for him. Ethan

continued. “The poison was from
Hapalochlaena maculosa
, Blue-Ringed

Octopus. He became paralyzed but could still feel what was being done

to him. He went very painfully.”

Willie took over the explanation. “I spoke to the school and got

Blake’s record. I did a little digging and found a few more aliases. He

has eight others.” Willie moved to a computer. “Anyway, I plugged in

some info and there were five things that popped up while researching

his names.”

Osten abandoned the chair to look over Willie’s shoulder at the

nineteen-inch computer screen. “Well, let’s assume he’s driving whe-

rever he’s going. He wouldn’t want to chance CJ asking for help or

making a scene. Or if she was drugged, I don’t guess he’d want to

explain what was wrong with her and risk someone remembering her

like that.”

Tyson moved beside Osten as well. “Okay, so if the poison pro-

longed his death, we should add a few hours to the time he would’ve

had for a head start.”

Ethan added, “We have all his accounts flagged so if any of

them are used, we’ll know immediately. We flagged Ms. Jackson’s

accounts also.”

“What’s that red square?” Osten asked.

“He has a cabin in the Appalachian Mountains. No one knows

where; however, some rumors have floated down it was in Virginia, the

Blue Ridge. To be fair, we’ve also heard Vermont’s Green Mountains.

But we have no solid proof.” Willie shrugged.

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169

“She’s there,” Osten affirmed as his gaze ran over the part of the

Appalachians that moved through Virginia. Tyson shot a glance to

Osten who just nodded. “I can’t explain it, Cade, I just know.”

“All right.” Hazel eyes moved from current teammate to past

ones. “Get me photos of this area and call me when it’s done.”

“You got it.” Ethan and Willie gathered the computer and

walked out the door.

Osten looked at Tyson. He was the Team’s second in command,

a friend, and officer, and Osten had no idea of what to say. How were

they going to get pictures of the area?

“I—”

“No need to thank me for something that never happened.” Still,

one half of his lips curled in a smile. “Let’s get some food.”

Not a word was said about what had transpired in the back of

the restaurant. Osten ate lunch with Tyson, Jayde, and Lex and talked

about a surprise party Lex wanted to throw for her husband.

Moods were considerably lighter as they made their way back to

Jayde’s van. Tyson helped Lex into the back, his wife into the passenger

seat, and waited for Osten to climb in next to Lex.

The ride back to the base was still contrived of party plans. Os-

ten was let out by his car and he watched as they drove away with a

slight wave.

Not even the cold bite of winter could cut through his thoughts

of CJ. For a few moments, he rested against his car before climbing in to

head to his quiet apartment. Once there, Osten focused on remembering

everything he could about Gordon Blake, anything that might shorten

his search for that man and ultimately Chantoya.

Two days passed and Osten was ready to blow a gasket. He had

heard nothing from Tyson’s contacts and almost snapped at Scott when

he called him into an office.

“Sir?” he asked, noticing Tyson was leaning against a far wall.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Scott demanded.

Eyebrows rising with confusion, Osten didn’t really have an an-

swer so he asked again, “Sir?”

“Cut the crap. This thing with CJ. I had to hear about it from

Jeb.” Cornflower blue eyes snapped with rage.

“I—”

Scott waved him silent. “No. This is time for you to listen. We

are family. You share these kinds of things; you don’t keep them to

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Aliyah Burke

yourself.” He waved his hand between himself and Tyson. “We care

about you, so from now on—”

“Ease off, Harrier,” Tyson interrupted. “I knew. We were wait-

ing for some photos to come in before we told everyone. I thought it

best to keep it quiet. We can all be a bit smothering at times when we

know something’s wrong.”

Harrier seemed a bit mollified by that, although his eyes were

still hard when he looked back to Osten. “Okay, then. Now that y’all

informed
me, you will tell everything.”

Osten opened his mouth, only to shut it when Tyson said, “Well

I got the photos so let’s do a show-n-tell for everyone and figure out

how we’re going to get CJ back.”

Scott picked up his phone. He dialed a number and after a quick

sentence hung up. “They’ll be here soon.”

The trio of men headed for their usual situation room, took their

normal seats and waited for the rest of the team to arrive.

Chantoya had no idea what day it was. Gordon had said she

was drugged so there was no way for her to really know how long she

had been here. She was wrapped in a blanket and sitting on the bed. For

the past few days she had been “choosing” to remain in the room.

Gordon was apparently unconcerned by it. He let her hide for

the most part, but demanded she eat. CJ had almost lost one of her two

articles of clothing had left for that display of refusal.

At least every day he gave her clean ones. CJ prayed it was a

dream.

Gordon took her to a room that still made her shudder. It was

like a shrine dedicated to her full of photos of her during many different

periods in her life.

He took great pride in sharing with her what he’d deemed
The

Pleasure Palace
. It was full of the toys they would use on one another—

furs, feathers, leathers, and more. However, it wasn’t until he brought

out her wedding dress with matching undergarments that CJ realized

just how far gone Gordon truly was.

As she sat on the bed, she understood that making a run for it

was going to be her only chance. Eyeing the blanket, she tried to devise

a way to cut it so she could wrap her feet. The door opened and Gordon

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171

stood there; over his arm was a dress. “You are wearing this for din-

ner.”

CJ nodded immediately, wanting him to leave.

Her quick agreement satisfied him and he laid the dress across

the foot of the bed. “I’d give you shoes if I thought you’d behave.”

Trap,
her mind screamed. Don’t look eager. “Are we going out-

side?” CJ hoped her question was the right tone. She hadn’t been

outside since finding out Gordon was her captor.

“No. We are having a candlelit dinner. A nice, quiet, romantic

dinner between lovers.” He sent her a grin that had once been endear-

ing. Now it was repulsive.

Lovers?!
CJ reached out of the blanket and touched the dress.

Silk. At first glance, she thought it was black; but upon closer inspec-

tion, it was just very dark purple. “When’s dinner?” Chantoya ques-

tioned, keeping her eyes on the dress.

“I’ll be back for you in an hour.” He turned for the door, paus-

ing before walking out. “Don’t forget, CJ. I am watching your every

move.” Then he was gone.

CJ was nervous and before she knew it, she’d reached for her

necklace only to remember it was no longer there. She waited until the

last possible moment to change. As she slid the dress over her head, CJ

tried to think of a way out. Gordon didn’t trust her. That was obvious.

She was locked in at night and he had nothing within reach should

could injure him with.

All her utensils were plastic and she only got a spoon. Never a

fork or knife. Her cup was Styrofoam.

And he had cameras everywhere. Everywhere. At least now she

knew who had broken into her home and put the camera there.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, Osten.” A humorless laugh es-

caped her as she realized it was moot to apologize when it was highly

unlikely she would see him again.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she envisioned Osten smiling

down at her with his dark, sparkling eyes. How safe his touch made her

feel; how special he made her feel.

“No more holding back my emotions,” she vowed. “If I get out

of here, I am going to make sure the people I love know it.”

Love. She loved Osten. “I hope I get the chance to tell you to

your face, Mr. Scoleri.” Hands that seemed steadier with the thought of

Osten smoothed over the dress that fit her figure perfectly. The smooth

material hugged her body, enhancing everything God gave her.

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Aliyah Burke

“You look beautiful, Chantoya.” Gordon’s voice was low and

near sincere as he spoke to her from the door. “Come on, dinner’s

waiting.”

Osten. Hurry up and find me.
Pasting a bland expression on her

face, CJ walked toward the man who stood by the door and held out a

hand to her. Gordon wore a double-breasted black silk suit with dark

purple accents. The pale green of his eyes seemed to glow more against

the darker coloring gracing his body.

Placing her hand in his, they walked up the hallway together. As

Gordon led her into the dining area, her breath caught in her throat. It

was beautiful. Stunning enough that she almost forgot she had been

kidnapped. Almost.

A white lace tablecloth with covered dishes draped the intimate

table. Sitting in the middle were two tapers, dark gold in color, their

flames flickering in the otherwise darkened room.

Gordon was silent as he escorted her to her chair. After he had

pushed her seat in, he uncovered her dish for her. CJ looked over the

food before her and felt her mouth water. Although an asshole, this

man sure knew how to tempt her stomach.

Salmon with an orange maple glaze framed by an array of

grilled vegetables and scoop of rice pilaf completed the food on her

plate.

“Our meal, my dear,” Gordon said in a deep voice as he took his

seat.

CJ tried to control the swell of hope as she laid her eyes upon

true silverware. Looking across the table, she was grateful to have the

intense eyes of Gordon glancing at something aside from her for the

moment.

“You should begin to eat,” he admonished slightly.

“I was wondering about the salmon,” she blurted, desperate to

have him believe she wasn’t planning an escape.

“It’s fresh from the Pacific Northwest. Alaskan, not Atlantic.”

He speared a bite of the fish and chewed it carefully while watching

her. “I know you don’t eat Atlantic salmon.”

Eating slowly, Chantoya thought of a way to phrase her ques-

tion. Her eyes drifted to half-mast as the rich flavor of the salmon filled

her senses. “It’s winter, how’d you get fresh salmon?”

Gordon dabbed his linen napkin at the corners of his mouth be-

fore he sent her a smile that scared her. “Trying to figure out where you

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173

are?” He shrugged easily. “Of course you are. You are still under the

impression you are going to be leaving me.”

CJ watched warily as Gordon set the napkin down beside his

plate. “Let me tell you something, CJ.” His eyes bore into hers. “I have

been following you for years. I have done extensive research on you

and I
know
that you are the perfect complement for me in all ways. We

are both exceptionally intelligent; we share the same passions; and I am

positive our children will be the best we both have to offer.”

Her hand shook as she ate a bite of rice pilaf. This was a night-

mare that wouldn’t end. “Then why the drugs?” she asked even as her

mind wondered about the food she was presently eating.

“Would you have willingly come with me?”

Hell, no!
“You are a married man, Gordon. I respect vows of ma-

trimony.”

“As do I, Chantoya. And when we get married, I will be very

pleased to know you take the vows as seriously as I do. That it is

binding…
for life
.”

Black and white photos with pen markings littered the table.

Absolute silence filled the room as the group waited for the last man to

enter. Seven pairs of sharp eyes swung to the door as it opened.

“We have until twenty-one hundred before the FBI launches its

operation.” Tyson closed the door behind him and took his usual seat.

“It will take them about three hours to get into position.” Silence

reigned again.

Each man looked at his watch. All eight of their timepieces were

perfectly synchronized with one another. As one the men pushed back

from the table and stood. They put the gathered photos into a shredder

before emptying the room.

The men moved down the hall, breaking off to head to their own