Page 87 of Four Cards Exposed

“She’s right, James,” Natalie piped in. “I understand how you’re feeling, but—“

“No. No, you don’t,” James spat out. “Without meaning to make light of your experience, you have no idea what it feels like to know the love of your life is trapped in a crate meant for a medium-sized dog.”

Natalie winced, taking a step back as if he’d slapped her.

James groaned.

Shit.

This isn’t their fault.

It’s yours.

You’re the one who didn’t protect Susan.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” James said. “Lorraine, I’m going. I just need your help with the plane.”

“It’s suicide, James. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that.”

“We’ll come with you,” Natalie said. Both women moved to flank him. As if anything or anybody could stop him from getting on that plane.

James looked first at one, then at the other.

“No. You have a child waiting for you at home. A husband who would shoot me if anything happened to you,” he spelled out for Natalie. “And you, Lorraine, are the only one I can trust to get this operation cleared. You can find us. We took out Susan’s tracker, but you can still use mine to track me.”

“It’ll be too late, James, by the time we get there—“

“It’s not about me, Lorraine. I’ll do my best to get Susan back. But if I don’t manage, I need to know you’ll find Susan.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Lorraine cry, but it was the first time her tears were directed at him.

“I promise, James.” Lorraine moved to the plane to speak to the pilot. For the first time since he’d first heard Natalie’s voice, he relaxed, knowing Lorraine would work her magic.

I’m coming, sweetheart.

I’m coming.

27

* * *

Susan

When Susan woke up next, she kept her eyes closed, afraid to open them. She shifted sideways, waiting for the moment when her shoulder would meet the side of the box.

It didn’t happen.

Instead, something metal caught on her wrist, stopping her from moving further.

Susan didn’t need to wonder what was going on. She was in law enforcement—she knew what handcuffs felt like.

As she opened her eyes, her relief at not finding herself inside the crate was quickly overshadowed by fear as she took in her current situation.

She was lying on a hard floor in a stone-walled room that wouldn’t look out of place in the basement of some medieval castle. The only light streamed in from two small, square windows located near the top of the wall, almost touching the ceiling.

A basement.

But at least there’s light.