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He let himself into the suite and was puzzled at the unusual silence. His daughters might still be napping, although they were usually awake by this time, but Vanessa and the bodyguard—one of three in the entourage that had accompanied Dirk’s family from Hollywood to Hong Kong—were on duty today, and they were missing. Usually, at this time of day Vanessa, the girls and their bodyguard could be found in the living room. The twins were fascinated by the breathtaking sight of Hong Kong Island across the harbor, day or night, and the boats plying the waters, views they could easily see through the floor-to-ceiling windows. And the girls had a habit of standing right up against the windows and smearing whatever they could reach with invariably sticky fingers.
The spacious living room was empty, but one of the chairs from the twins’ miniature tea table, set up in front of the central picture window, had been overturned...and left that way. Then Dirk noticed other things. The diaper bag, which Vanessa usually kept by the front door, stocked and ready to go should she leave the suite with the girls, was missing. But the double stroller was right where Vanessa kept it, and her purse was on the table by the door. She wouldn’t have left the suite without either of those things, Dirk realized in a flash. Vanessa might have been able to carry one toddler in her arms, but not two—not for long. And even if the bodyguard on duty today, Chet Ritter, had carried one of the girls against protocol, no woman ever went anywhere without her purse.
There was a strange odor in the air, too—just the faintest trace of something sickly sweet. Dirk couldn’t put his finger on it, but it tugged at a chord of memory.
Then he heard a sound. An odd, muffled sound, accompanied by sudden thumping, coming from the girls’ bedroom. He strode to the door with Patrick right behind him, and a zing of terror shot through him. Vanessa and Chet lay on their sides on the floor, hands bound behind their backs with duct tape. There was tape around their ankles, too, and across their mouths—the muffled sound was Vanessa trying to call out through the barrier. The thumping was her pounding her bound feet against the carpeted floor, trying to gain attention from the hotel room below.
Linden and Laurel were nowhere in sight.
Chapter 2
“Chet” was the first word out of Vanessa’s mouth when Dirk removed the gag. She coughed and swallowed before adding, “Is he okay? They hit him and knocked him out, then they took the girls.” She gasped, “Mr. DeWinter—”
“When?” Dirk demanded roughly, then said, “Hold still,” placing his hands on her arms just above the duct tape, making sure she didn’t move while Patrick sliced through her bonds with the switchblade knife he’d pulled from his pocket. When Vanessa’s hands were free, Patrick focused on her ankles. Dirk helped her to a sitting position once she was completely freed, then briskly rubbed her wrists to restore circulation while Patrick did the same thing to her ankles.
Then both men turned their attention to Chet. A darkening contusion on his forehead showed how he’d been overpowered before he’d been gagged and bound, but he was conscious now. “What happened?” Dirk asked as he and Patrick freed Chet. “How long ago?”
Vanessa answered his last question first. “About two hours ago, I think. I...I can’t be sure, but I think so. I thought it was room service with lunch when the doorbell rang.”
Dirk frowned. “The front door to the suite?” he asked. “Not the butler’s entrance in the kitchen?”
Vanessa looked startled for a moment, as if she’d just realized something. “Oh, I...I didn’t think of that. But yes, the front door. Chet answered it, and before I knew it one of them had knocked him out and there were two men in the living room. One of them was Chinese—” Dirk started to ask another question, but she answered it before he could get the words out. “I didn’t recognize them. But I’d know them if I saw them again, especially the second man, the one who wasn’t Chinese. The one with a gun.” She shuddered. “His eyes. They were so cold.”
“Did they leave a ransom note?” Dirk’s brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders, but icy fear trickled down his spine at the thought of his daughters—Bree’s daughters—in the hands of kidnappers. Your fault. His conscience was quick to judge. You failed to keep your daughters safe. Just as you failed to save Bree.
Vanessa shook her head. “They didn’t leave a ransom note with me. Did you find one in the other room?”
