Death is Not Enough (Romantic Suspense #21)

At once there was a shout of fury. ‘Where is she?’

Thorne held his breath, waiting for him to find Blake Segal, but all he heard was more shouting and the sound of the big box tearing.

Tavilla came back, kicking Thorne once again. ‘Where is she? Your lover?’

‘I don’t know.’ It was true. He didn’t know. He hoped she had made it to shore. Please be safe. I love you.

‘And the boy? The judge’s son?’

He’s hiding. Thank God. ‘I don’t know,’ Thorne said again.

Tavilla kicked him once more, this time in the head.

‘Yes, you do, Mr Thorne.’ His voice quieted. Became so cold that Thorne shivered. ‘And I know just how to make you tell me.’

Annapolis, Maryland,

Thursday 16 June, 5.40 P.M.

‘I want to kill that fucker,’ Jamie whispered, his voice choked.

Frederick glanced away from Judge Segal, who was seated alone at a table in one of BPD’s interrogation rooms, and studied Jamie’s reflection in the one-way glass of the observation room. His friend’s face was contorted with the pain that came from knowing that his child was in danger and there was no way to help.

Frederick was familiar with that expression. He’d seen it in the mirror daily after Carrie had run away. Later, after she’d been found dead, his reflection had shown the consuming grief of losing her. He sent up a prayer that Jamie would never know that agony.

Frederick didn’t want to kill Segal so much as he wanted to do the same thing he’d done to the gunman in the wood – make him talk, no matter what he had to do. Because whatever he’d pried out of the gunman hadn’t been enough. They knew they were looking for a boat, but they didn’t know where.

Joseph had helicopters conducting aerial searches, but so far, they’d found nothing.

‘I get wanting to kill him,’ JD murmured from where he stood on the other side of Jamie’s chair. ‘But we’re going to have to trust Joseph and Hyatt to do their job.’

‘Which is what?’ Jamie hissed. ‘Where the fuck are they?’

Because Joseph had abruptly left the room to take a call on his cell phone, Hyatt following behind him. The two had been gone for several minutes, serving to heighten the tension in the observation room.

Frederick remained silent, squeezing Jamie’s shoulder before returning his gaze to Judge Segal, who sat alone at the interrogation table, his expression neutral. But the grip he had on his thigh was white-knuckled. He was nervous. He should be. The FBI/BPD task force had found evidence that Segal had taken bribes. Big ones.

Still the man had not cracked. Hadn’t even asked to see his attorney. Which did not make sense at all.

The door to the interrogation room opened and Joseph and Hyatt re-entered, looking grim.

Jamie gasped, and Frederick squeezed his shoulder again, even though his own pulse had begun to race, wondering what had happened. ‘Keep it together, Jamie,’ he whispered. ‘They’d tell you first if it was something bad.’ Like if Thorne was dead.

No. I’m not going to even think it.

Joseph sat across from Segal. Hyatt sat beside the judge, encroaching on his personal space without actually touching him. Segal looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t move an inch.

‘You should have told us that Tavilla had kidnapped your son,’ Joseph said bluntly.

Segal flinched, the remaining color draining from his face. ‘You found him? Blake?’

‘No, but we know that Tavilla has him on a boat, in some kind of torture room.’

Segal’s eyes closed, but not quickly enough to hide the abject terror in his eyes. ‘You’re lying.’

Both Joseph and Hyatt narrowed their eyes. ‘You know we’re not,’ Hyatt said quietly. ‘What do you know about this torture room?’

‘Nothing,’ Segal insisted stiffly. He opened his eyes, having regained some of his composure. ‘Absolutely nothing.’

Joseph studied him. ‘I heard his voice. He didn’t think he’d been taken too far from your house, but he was groggy because he’d been drugged by his captors.’ He paused. ‘Blake wasn’t blindfolded, Judge Segal. He’s seen their faces.’

Segal sucked in a breath, the full import of that statement clearly registering. ‘Dear God,’ he whispered.

‘We know they’re on a boat,’ Joseph repeated. ‘We know it’s called the Se?or del Mar. We know it’s docked somewhere called Chevalier.’ He gave Segal a sharp look. ‘We were hoping you could help us.’

Segal licked his lips nervously. ‘How? How could I know?’

‘Because you conspired with Tavilla to eliminate Thomas Thorne.’

‘Oh,’ Jamie breathed. ‘They found something.’

On the other side of the glass, Segal attempted to sneer, but the beads of sweat on his upper lip gave him away. ‘You’re fishing, Agent Carter.’

In answer, Joseph slid a piece of paper across the table. Hyatt leaned in to look over Segal’s shoulder, shaking his head. ‘That looks bad to me, Judge,’ the lieutenant said with mock sympathy. ‘An account in your own words. Signed by you.’

Segal had immediately stiffened when he saw what was written on the paper. His hands trembled as he snatched it off the table, not, it seemed, in fear, but in rage. ‘Where did you get this?’

‘From your safe deposit box,’ Joseph said. ‘We had a warrant. Signed by a judge.’

‘Always risky to pen a confession to be shared in the event of your suspicious death,’ Hyatt added, still mocking. ‘Especially if you don’t die.’ He reached over Segal to tap the bottom of the page. ‘It says here that you visited Tavilla on his ship, where you confronted him about the murder of your wife Patricia. He admitted to the crime “freely” and threatened your son if you told anyone.’

Joseph lifted his brows. ‘It looks like he jumped the gun on you. He’s got your son now.’

Segal lowered the page to the table, folding his hands atop it. ‘Who told you that Blake was on the boat?’ he asked, shoulders sagging in defeat.

‘Thomas Thorne,’ Joseph answered tersely. ‘He’s on the boat too and they’re trying to find a way off it.’

Segal closed his eyes again. ‘Thorne?’ he moaned. ‘Thorne is with my son? Oh my God. He’ll kill Blake. He’ll kill him.’

Hyatt’s jaw tightened. ‘You know, Judge, you should be relieved that it’s Thorne with your kid. A lot of men would use this as an opportunity to exact revenge for allowing them to be accused of a murder that you fucking committed. But that is not Thorne’s style.’ He shook his head. ‘He’s more likely to take a bullet so that your kid can escape.’

Jamie made a sound that was too close to a whimper.

Heart hurting for him, Frederick squeezed his shoulder again. ‘You don’t know that anyone’s taking a bullet,’ he said quietly. ‘Hopefully this asshole will tell them where the fucking boat is.’

‘But Hyatt,’ Jamie whispered. ‘He . . . That was a really nice thing he said there.’

JD cleared his throat. ‘Nice and true.’

‘He’s right,’ Joseph said to Segal. ‘Now help us save them before it’s too late.’ He leaned across the table, getting in Segal’s face. ‘Where is the boat?’

Segal withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow. ‘I’m not exactly sure. It’s somewhere off Muddy Creek Road. Near the mouth of the river.’

Joseph sat up sharply. ‘Rhode River?’

A nod. ‘I think so. Or one of the creeks. I was blindfolded, so I’m not sure.’

Hyatt frowned. ‘How do you know that much if you were blindfolded?’

Segal flushed, the twin streaks of red dark against his pale face. ‘I had a tracking device on me, but it . . . malfunctioned at the end.’

Joseph’s face also bent in a frown. ‘Tavilla allowed you on his boat without checking for a tracking device?’

If anything, the man’s flush deepened. ‘He checked. His gorilla – Patton – strip-searched me, the fucker. I had it . . .’ He lifted his chin. ‘I had it hidden. I was hoping to get his exact location for further leverage.’