Chapter 8
Trace awoke to the sounds of someone grinding coffee. She was naked and sweaty, lying on her side with her back to him. His arm was draped possessively over her hip, his hand gently squeezing her breast.
“Morning,” he whispered in her ear.
She slowly turned to face him, their legs entangling again, as she hugged his thigh between hers. “Morning handsome. I’m so grateful you showed me all those wonderful dance moves. The hip action, and the—”
She gasped as his fingers pinched her nipple and he pressed her onto her back and into the couch.
“You want some coffee?” he asked after he’d taken several deep kisses.
“I’d love some.”
He smirked, adjusted his muscled thighs and his other more delicate parts. Bending over, he slipped his pajama bottoms up over his hips and stood.
“Morning ladies.” He gave them a wave. Kate and Libby nearly jumped out of their skins.
“Were you comfortable last night, Trace?” asked Kate.
“Didn’t have enough room, but there were compensating factors.” He walked over to the countertop and poured a cup of black coffee. “Does she like cream in her coffee?” he whispered in Kate’s ear.
“Who?”
“Your beautiful sister.”
She broke out into a wide smile. “She does.” She cleared her throat while Trace foraged in the refrigerator. “Morning sis,” Kate shouted to the living room.
Gretchen answered, “Morning Kate,” from the couch.
When Trace saw her sit up, holding the blanket to her still bare chest, her peach complexion and dazed expression nearly took his breath away.
“I took advantage of her, I’m afraid, Kate,” he whispered as they both studied Gretchen’s face.
“I certainly hope so,” she quipped in return. “Either that or she’s coming down with a fever.”
Trace brought the coffee over to Gretchen, and then helped her slip the nightie over her head. She warmed herself with the steaming mug, took a sip and closed her eyes.
“Coffee’s good, ladies,” Trace reported.
Libby approached. “We’re about to have a whole room full of people here in just a few minutes. Why don’t you two take a shower before all the hot water is gone? The twins are not up yet, so now’s your chance, trust me.”
Trace helped Gretchen fold the blanket and placed it with the other one and the pillow in the hallway closet. They climbed the stairs together and found the sole bathroom door locked.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” Linda said behind the door.
“Trace, you go downstairs and find a shower. I’ll wait until Linda’s done. I’ll meet you back down there for breakfast, okay?”
He reluctantly agreed.
A call from Gretchen’s oldest daughter interrupted their breakfast. Trace watched her worried expression turn into downright fear as she listened to Clover’s sobbing plea for help.
“Clover, calm down. What’s wrong?” Her cool demeanor flared into near panic as she listened to her daughter’s tale. He could not make out all the words until he caught her say, “three men showed up at the school while I was waiting after practice and they took me in a van.”
Kate flew to Gretchen’s side, holding the sleeping baby. The two sisters stared at each other in shock.
“Do they have all three of you?”
“No. Angela and Becky are with Gramma.”
Although Gretchen let out a sigh of relief, she was still very pale and Trace thought she might faint. Then he heard a man’s voice come on the line. Trace grabbed the phone from her hands. Gretchen fell into Kate’s arms and the baby awoke, startled.
“—And we have your oldest daughter. She is safe at the moment,” the man said in heavily accented Spanish, and if you cooperate, all will end well.”
“Who the fuck is this?” Trace asked the stranger.
“Ah, Senor, not necessary to use profanity. This only makes the Indians restless and we’re trying to conduct business here with Mrs. Sanders. You are her spokesperson?”
“Trace Bennett.”
“You are a friend of the family, Trace Bennett? Please put Mrs. Sanders back on the phone. With all due respect, senor.”
Everyone sitting at the large dining table had stopped eating and was staring at the three of them. Tyler took the baby from Kate. Trace covered the mouthpiece and informed them, “They have Gretchen’s daughter.”
The room erupted in soft curses. Cooper stood and placed a call, probably to Kyle, who was still in Washington, D.C. Others called home to check on the safety of their own children. He knew the Team network would be mobilized so that everyone was informed what had occurred, because Gretchen was indeed family.
“Senor? I would like to speak to Mrs. Sanders, please,” the voice repeated.
Gretchen extricated herself from Kate’s embrace and reached for the phone, trying to grab it from Trace’s fingers. He held it just out of reach. Finally she scolded him. “I need to talk to her, Trace. Give it to me right now!”
He handed it over. His blood was boiling. On his feet, he started pacing, thinking, clenching and unclenching his fists. He was waiting for the cloud of emotions to subside and the clarity of a plan to emerge, but didn’t find any comfort or path. There were too many details he needed to find out. Coop had just finished his call and appeared beside him.
“We get that number and I’ll give it to my NSA contact, Trace,” he whispered.
Trace nodded. “Thanks, man.”
“Where are they?”
“I’m thinking Portland, but not sure.”
Gretchen was still listening to instructions. “H-how much of a little compensation is little?” Gretchen said bitterly, waiting for a response. “But I’m in Hawaii.” She was flustered, stammering. “I have to call my ex-husband. Where have you taken her?”
Trace gently held her arm, adjusting her wrist and hand to expose the phone number on the phone screen, showing it to Coop, then pushed “Speaker” so the whole room could hear the conversation. He double-checked with her, gave her a peck on the cheek, and she nodded her approval. Coop jotted a note and got back on his own phone.
The speaker crackled and squawked, “Like I said, Mrs. Sanders, she is safe and being watched over. She is being fed and given water, so no need to be concerned.”
Gretchen sucked in a breath and boomed right back at the man, “You fuckin’ better take very good care of my daughter you animal!”
Trace was astounded.
The voice on the other end of the phone sighed. “Mrs. Sanders, like I told your friend, the use of profanity is not necessary. It is not our intention to hurt your daughter, Mrs. Sanders. We are looking for just our little transaction fee, and then we will be out of your hair. Your beautiful daughter will be returned to you unharmed and untouched. I give you my word.”
Gretchen’s body tensed as several Team members and their wives swore under their breath and whispered amongst themselves. Trace could see already a plan was being formulated. The distance was a factor, but they were used to four plus hour flights to an op.
Coop whispered to Trace, “Okay, I’m having the phone number traced. You want Libby to get you and Gretchen to Portland? She’s checked and there’s a direct flight at noon you might be able to catch.”
“Thanks, I think that would be a good idea. I’ll pay you back.”
“Not a problem. We can tag along, too, if you want us to.”
“You got the ladies here, Coop. Not fair to have you do this.”
“No, Trace. You don’t understand. Maybe it was different on Team 8, but on this team we stick together. If you think we’re in the way, we’ll not do it. But I don’t think it’s asking or expecting too much. You’d do the same for me, I know you would.”
Trace nodded, and nodded a brief smile to Libby, who got on her cell phone immediately.
Gretchen’s voice was getting shaky and Trace could tell her emotions were confusing her. “I asked you before, how much? How much for my daughter?”
The voice paused. “One million dollars.”
It might as well have been ten million. Trace suspected this would be an impossible figure to come up with. The room was once again filled with whispered profanity. Gretchen’s breathing was irregular, her chest shaking with each inhale and exhale. He helped her put the phone down on the table, and then folded her in his arms while they listened to the sole voice on the other end of the line.
“I will give you one more chance to speak with your daughter and then we will sign off for now. No tricks, please, Mrs. Sanders. You must keep the girl calm so I don’t have to sedate her.”
Gretchen leaned over the table and shouted into the phone’s speaker, “Don’t you fuckin’ touch a hair on her body! Let me speak to my daughter now!” She braced her body with her palms on the table, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Just as she was about done with her exhale, she heard her daughter’s voice.
“Mom?” Clover’s weak voice broke Trace’s heart. “I’m scared.”
“Did they hurt you, sweetie?” she asked.
“No. But they’re creepy.” Clover sobbed and then sniffled. In a whisper, she said, “Mom, I’m in my spandex.” Her voice trailed off.
Trace didn’t understand at first what she was saying.
“Didn’t you bring your warm-up suit?”
“Just the jacket, and it’s cold in here.”
Gretchen was holding herself together now. “I know sweetie. Ask them for a blanket or something to wrap around your legs. You have to stay warm.”
“When are you coming to get me?”
It was the question that hung in the air that nobody had an answer for.
“As soon as I can. I have to get hold of your dad. Have they tried calling him?”
“Yes. He doesn’t pick up.”
Gretchen gritted her teeth. “How did this happen, Clover?”
“I was waiting for Joanie. She was late. Everyone just left me, Mom.” She wavered and soon began to sob again. “I’m scared Mom.”
The phone made muffled sounds and then the strange voice came on the line again. “So this is how it’s going to happen,” he began.
Gretchen interrupted him. “No, you don’t understand. I can’t do anything until I get in touch with Clover’s father. He’s the one in town, and he’s the only one who can arrange the money. So you’re going to have to wait. I’m just telling the truth of how it is. I wish it was different, but you’re going to have to give us some time to get this figured out.”
Trace noticed she got stronger the longer she spoke.
“I do understand, Mrs. Sanders. I’m willing to be flexible, within reason. But don’t take too long.”
“You need to keep calling him. And I think Clover has his girlfriend’s number with her somewhere too.”
“Okay. I am a very patient man, Mrs. Sanders. We will continue to try getting through to him, and we will call you back.”
“I’m going to take the first flight home.” She looked at Libby who nodded her head, yes. But I’ll have my friends keep trying Tony as well.”
“Very well. One other thing, you are not to involve the police. Trust me when I say that things will not go well for your lovely daughter, Clover. Such a special child. It would be a shame—”
Trace had the urge to grab the phone from Gretchen again to give the guy a piece of his mind, but Gretchen beat him to it.
“You have no idea who you’re dealing with. Like I said before, you harm one hair on her body and if it’s the last thing I do, if it takes my whole life, I’ll find you and your little cadre of demons and I will personally excise you from this planet. That’s not a threat. That’s a fact!” Gretchen’s face was red with anger.
The gentleman on the phone laughed softly. But then they could hear Clover’s outburst in the background, echoing in a large space, like a warehouse or hangar, “Don’t touch me!”
The voice continued. “I can see where she gets her spirit. I hope, for her sake, it is not in vain. We’ll be in touch.”
The phone went dead.