Page 82 of The Agent
“I do too, but we need to know what he’s up to. We’ll tap her phone but Van Houten doesn’t know that.”
“If I can be of any assistance, call me, no matter what the hour,” Alastair said.
Tully heard the anxiety lurking beneath the British reserve. “I’ll update you as soon as I can.”
He set up the phone-tap software on his computer in anticipation of linking to Regina’s phone. Then he took his cell phone to his bedroom to strip out of his office casual clothes before he pulled on black combat pants, a black long-sleeved shirt, and low tactical boots. After donning a bulletproof vest, he opened the gun safe in the back of the closet and took out his favorite big Glock and a shoulder holster that fit over the vest. For good measure he strapped a sheathed tactical knife to his left forearm. He collected ammunition for the gun, as well as his lock-pick set, and secured the safe.
As he loaded and holstered the Glock, he kept glancing at the cell phone sitting on his dresser, willing it to ring with news from Deion that Natalie and Jenya were safely asleep in Natalie’s house. The longer it took for Deion to call, the less likely that scenario became.
Tully grabbed a black knit cap and headed back to the computer room, tensing when his cell finally rang with Deion’s ID.
“Natalie and Sarah Lacey are gone. Jenya’s unconscious,” Deion reported tersely.
“Unconscious how? A blow to the head or drugs?” Fury seared through his veins.
“I don’t see any lumps or bruising and there’s no evidence of a fight, so I think it must be drugs.”
“Sarah Lacey had to be part of this,” Tully muttered, guilt ripping at him with steel claws. He should have checked up on the woman instead of feeling sorry for himself like a teenager who’d been dumped by his girlfriend. “Get Jenya to the nearest hospital. Keep me posted on her condition.”
“Yes, sir. Once I do that, I want to help you find Natalie.”
Tully liked the determination in the young man’s voice. “It’s a good thought but you’re still not trained. Stay with Jenya.”
“But I shouldn’t have let Natalie take Sarah Lacey home with her. Iknewthat.” Deion’s voice was racked with guilt.
It was nothing compared with the claws of regret tearing at Tully’s chest. “No, Deion, that’s on me. You did everything you could. Now let me get Natalie back.”
“Right. Get that motherfucker.” Deion did not apologize for his language this time.
Tully went to his office to find Regina’s phone linked to the computer program. He called Leland. “Let me talk with Regina.”
“What’s happening?” Regina sounded distraught when she came on the phone. “Why is Dobs trying to reach me now?”
“That’s what you’re going to find out for us,” Tully said, injecting calm and reassurance into his voice. “I want you to imagine that you’re sitting in a hotel room. No one is with you. Your divorce lawyer has just called to say the husband you hate and fear urgently needs to talk with you. Are you with me?”
“I think ... yes.” She sounded shaky but determined.
“You debate whether to do it. But you need to know what he wants, or you won’t be able to sleep tonight. So you call him.” He wanted her to react in ways consistent with his imagined scenario. “Remember, you are alone in a hotel room. No one is there to coach you or help you.”
“I know what that’s like.” He heard the shiver of fear in her voice.
“Good. Whatever your husband says, I want you to imagine that’s the situation you’re in and answer him accordingly. It’s important.” Van Houten needed to believe that he had his wife at his mercy. It would make him less careful.
“Yes, I can do that.” There was some confidence now.
“May I speak with Leland again?” When his partner got on the phone, Tully asked, “Is she going to be able to handle this?”
“I believe so,” Leland said.
“Okay, I need you and Dawn to take her to her bedroom, close the door, and leave her there alone while she makes the call.”
“I’d feel better if Dawn was with her.”
Tully knew this would be hard for Leland to stomach. “I don’t want any coaching. She has to sound natural ... and scared.”
Leland uttered a curse. “Understood. I’ll be listening with you, though.”
“Okay, set it up. I don’t want to make Van Houten stew in his own anger any longer.”
