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Trax and Dante’s mate must be very understanding if they could take time off like that. “We’ll have to ride with someone. We didn’t have a chance to rent a car,” Grayson explained.
Jay glanced around. “Why don’t you two come with me, and Nate and Harmon can ride with the Fieldings.”
“That works.”
“I’ll let the general know.” Jay texted the address to the other men. “Be right back.”
Once they were ready, they piled into the cars and took off.
“Tell me about Paris,” Jay said once they were underway.
Grayson wasn’t sure why he’d need to know, but he enjoyed telling everyone about her. “What would you like to know?"
Jay smiled. “I want to understand what her mental state might be when we arrive. It could affect how we deal with the rescue.”
The man was smart. “I think she’ll be mad, mostly.”
“Paris is resilient,” Rider said. “She was the one who walked into her father’s office and told him enough to make him run. I’m assuming she said she believed he had a cocaine plant on the premises, but that’s just a guess.”
“What was she hoping to achieve by this confrontation?” Jay asked.
Grayson and Rider had discussed this. “We think she wanted Delancey to confess to making illegal drugs. She thought we’d be recording her activities, only the button camera didn't come with sound, which was a shame.”
“Did it appear as if he confessed?”
“Not that we could tell, but he wouldn’t have kidnapped her if he didn’t believe she could prove some of her allegations.”
Jay nodded. “Good. She’s tough and resourceful. I can use that.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Paris was tired,hungry, and royally pissed. It wasn’t that she had expected better treatment. After all, this was her father who had kidnapped her. Mostly, she was angry with herself for the way she’d handled things. She should have said that if anything happened to her, the police would receive all the evidence she’d gathered.
Would it have made a difference? Probably not. Her father appeared angry, but inside, he had to have been scared.
She looked around the small bedroom—her small prison for now. At least she was on a soft bed. True, that goon of a driver had tied her to the iron headboard and then had locked the door, but neither man had physically harmed her, for which she was grateful.
When Paris had asked her father what he planned to do with her, he hesitated before he told her to shut up. She had the sense he hadn’t decided. For now, she’d wait.
During her one bathroom break when her hands had been free, she’d pressed on the bobby pin to make sure it was on. In hindsight, she wasn’t sure if she hadn’t turned it off instead. Unfortunately, there was no way to check, not that it mattered now. Considering the length of the flight, the signal wouldn’t reach to Ames anyway.
Once they landed, they kept her blindfolded, but there was no way to disguise the humidity. Since it was September, they probably were someplace far south of Canada. Her men had told her that dear old dad was a half-brother to Paul Statler, the head of this infamous Colter clan. He had lived in Florida, close to where the general lived. Was that where they were? Now, Paris wished she had asked more questions.
As tired as she was, she had to stay awake and think of a way to escape. When they’d led her out of the car and up three steps, they must have stepped on something like a porch, because the boards creaked. Inside the house, no one must have lived there for a while, because it was damp and smelled of mold.
Once she was in the bedroom on the second floor, they had removed her blindfold at least, but they hadn’t turned on any lights. However, there was enough outside light to show two windows facing in different directions.
Paris couldn’t hear what the men were saying downstairs, so she allowed herself to take a short nap. And that’s when she heard the buzzing noise. At first, she thought it was some kind of giant bug outside the window, until she remembered that Connolly had flown a drone over the underground parking garage. Dare she hope some members of the Pack had found her?
Surely, Grayson and Rider would be beside themselves when she didn’t show up at the end of her shift—assuming they couldn’t figure out what her message had meant. The fact Grayson had written,Stop,implied they were pretty sure she was walking into danger. If true, they would have seen her father open the secret door that led to a corridor and force her at gunpoint to enter.
Even if the men knew she was in trouble, could they find her—plane ride or not? In case they had already, she wiggled on the bed as much as she could to show a living, breathing, person was in that room. Her prone position should give away that she was there under duress, assuming the drone was equipped with an infrared camera.
When the buzzing moved away and then went silent, her hope drained. Paris had been certain someone had come to her rescue—or had that been wishful thinking?
* * *
“This room appears to be where Paris is being held,” Trax said.
