“Jade was single withno onein her life when we found her.” Franco glared at the photo of a smiling Jade sitting on Chase’s lap. “He will rue the day he crossed me. She is not going back to the house where her blasphemous behavior with him occurred anytime soon. If ever.”
“I agree she should stay here at least until we’re completely convinced she’s been turned against him. But she has to make a brief, public appearance at the office tomorrow. The cops can find us even if Chase can’t.”
Franco bellowed for Greta, and she hurried into the room. A blonde—as he admittedly had a type—the housemaid, however, was forgettable and expendable. But he was a bachelor after all, and Greta was well paid to live ins and perform multiple duties for him any hour of the day or night. Greta hurried into the room, and Franco simply pointed to the bourbon. Observing the shattered glass, she sidestepped it for now and quickly served him up another crystal tumbler.
“What if being at work triggers a good memory of Chase for Jade?” Franco asked after Greta left the living room.
“It won’t. She was never with Chase at the office,” Mateo said with conviction, “When and if she does see Chase, the trauma is triggered to unload one bomb after another.”
“Yes, excellent,” Franco snickered. “I can’t wait to make some memories with Jade at the office, at her house, in my bedroom, and—”
“I am warning you, do not touch her until I work you into the scenario,” Mateo said, rubbing his goatee. “And Franco, don’t underestimate Chase.”
“You sound as scared of him as Axel.” Franco snorted and sniffed. “Axel better do as I ordered and keep a low profile for the next few days so he can’t be found.” Franco rubbed his nose and pulled on his ear before sipping more bourbon. “As for Chase, he’s a nobody with some stupid cows.”
“Axel may be a pip-squeak when push comes to shove, but he’s a whiz with the laptop and research. He says Triple C Ranch-Central, East, and West comprise one hundred twenty thousand acres.”
Franco shrugged as if not impressed. “We have acreage.” He considered himself quite lord-like, living in the shadow of Cheyenne Mountain. The range was southwest of downtown Colorado Springs. This new and exorbitantly expensive development was emerging on a hilltop. It overlooked The Broadmoor, an upscale neighborhood of custom-built mansions located near the famous hotel of the same name. “Not many can afford to live near the resort built by Spencer and Julie Penrose.” Penrose was a famous entrepreneur and philanthropist who had made his fortune from mining, ore processing, and real estate speculation in and around Colorado Springs. “The Broadmoor being a five-star hotel and resort, I might add.”
“We own our two acres and two lots on both sides of our house,” Mateo said. “That’s six measly acres. Thosestupidcows represent hundreds of Black Angus. In my opinion, the finest beef there is. Chase sells that beef everywhere in Colorado and ships cattle all over the United States.”
“He lives in the sticks. We live in luxury. Literally on Lusso Lane,” Franco said, proud his suggestion oflusso, which was the Italian word for luxury, had been accepted.
“The developers let us name the street because we were the first and only buyers in this subdivision, and we purchased six lots.”
Franco scowled. “What’s your point, Mateo?”
“My point is thosesticksChase lives in cover 187.5 square miles, Franco.Miles.” When Franco glowered at him, Mateo said. “Chase has brains in order to run such a successful cattle ranch operation. We saw for ourselves he has brawn. Axel already told us he’s as mean as he is good-looking. So just be warned, Chase is anything but a run-of-the-mill cowboy.”
* * *
Chase had arrivedhome and gone straight to his office. He’d held back from calling or texting Jade, figuring Mateo Spatafore, as her boss, but more likely Franco, as the man obsessed with her, might have access to her phone. He’d sat down behind his desk, turned on his laptop, and searched the Internet for anything he could find on the Spatafores. A Colorado newspaper had reported on a ribbon-cutting ceremony for the Spatafore offices’ grand opening in the Victorian house. In the article, Dr. Mateo Spatafore was praised for his free psychiatric services offered to local women’s shelters. Dr. Franco Spatafore was heralded as a patron of the arts for his judging of runway model fashion shows.
To hell with that. Chase paid for full online background checks on both Spatafores. Neither had been married or had children. No other relatives’ names were associated with theirs.
Digging deeper—score. There was a public record of an arrest stemming from a criminal complaint against Mateo back in New Jersey. It had involved two female clients alleging he had raped them. Franco had been arrested for kidnapping them. Charges were dropped, but it didn’t say why. Evidently, the Spatafores’ methods of operation hadn’t changed much over the years. Now these two predators had Jade. Where the hell were they hiding her?
The Chinook wind howled like a coyote, tearing Chase’s heart to pieces.
* * *
Eventually,at about 3:00 am, he’d decided to rest for a few minutes on the leather sofa in his den. Seemed he’d no sooner closed his eyes than he heard voices and smelled food coming from the back of the house. He rolled off the couch, stretching as he lumbered through the great room. Passing the French doors to his bedroom, he could almost see Jade wiggling her polka-dotted fanny. Nearing the staircase, he wished he was waiting on her to join him for a movie. In the kitchen, he found Chloe and Teresa.
“I’ve already talked to Cash,” Chloe said as soon as she saw him.
“And Bob and Coop,” Teresa added, standing at the stove.
“We know you got that bruise over your eye from that no-good Ragsdale,” Chloe said, hugging Chase. “We know everything.”
“Not everything,” Chase said around a yawn. “What time is it?”
“Eight.” Chloe nudged him onto a barstool at the granite island and asked, “What don’t we know?”
“I need coffee,” Chase muttered and carefully rubbed his eyes, which felt like they were made of sandpaper. When he looked, both Chloe and Teresa were staring at him, waiting. “I ran background checks and found public arrest records on the Spatafores back in New Jersey, where they came from.” He told them about the charges, the outcomes, and then added, “Franco and Mateo opened their offices here twenty years ago. They’re twins.Fifty-six-year-oldtwins.”
Chloe almost spilled the coffee she was carrying to him. Teresa nearly dropped an egg she was about to crack over the griddle where bacon sizzled. No, Jade had not mentioned their age, and yes, he was more convinced than ever they were holding her. But so far, he still had no idea where.
“The Spatafores may have been pissed at Jade after she escaped them for five days, but I don’t believe they would have kidnapped her if they hadn’t found my Corvette in her driveway.”
