Texas Ransom Read online

  Graham’s head was still spinning, but he knew he had to somehow get the vertigo under control. He would force himself to function because he had to. He had to find Kendall.

  Clutching the earring in one hand, he stumbled toward the elevator, punched the down button and waited for the doors to slide open. As he staggered into the confined space, he stood with his back pressed against the wall, his gaze focused on the red emergency button. He didn’t look at anything else, and eventually the walls stopped spinning. His head cleared and by the time he reached the lobby, he’d managed to regain control of his equilibrium.

  The huge glass-and-granite lobby was already swarming with police officers. Through the wall of windows he could see the bubblegum lights whirling atop the squad cars, and as he watched, a SWAT van pulled to the curb. Several men in armored body suits piled out of the back and headed toward the building with grim, determined expressions.

  Graham quickly canvassed the lobby. Luckily no one had noticed him yet, but he hadn’t taken the time to figure out what his next move should be, let alone formulate any kind of plan. Obviously, he wasn’t getting out of the building without being seen, and even if he could, he had no way of knowing whether Kendall was still inside. But his gut told him that she was already gone, and he had a terrible feeling that if he didn’t find her soon, she would be lost to him forever.

  Graham continued to study the lobby until he saw a familiar face. Earlier, when he and Kendall had first arrived, he’d struck up a brief conversation with one of the security guards. He’d manned the desk where all guests were required to sign in, and behind him, a bank of screens monitored the exits and various points inside the building.

  Graham had caught a glimpse of an Astros game on one of the screens, and he’d asked the guard for the score. The man had recognized Graham’s name when he signed in, and they’d talked for several minutes about baseball and the design of the building before Graham realized that Kendall had gone over to the elevators to wait.

  That same guard was still behind the desk as he watched the controlled chaos in the lobby.

  Straightening his tie and then his glasses, Graham strode toward the guard without looking right or left. His formal attire would hardly allow him to blend in with the dour-faced officers in the lobby, but more often than not an air of authority was all it took. He’d learned that lesson first from his father and then from his brother.

  The guard didn’t seem to notice as Graham approached. His attention was riveted on the SWAT activity outside the front doors.

  Graham cleared his throat and stood a little straighter. “Excuse me.”

  The guard turned. “Something I can help you with?” He was short and stocky, with thick blond hair and a round, boyish face.

  “I hope so,” Graham said. “Do you remember me? We spoke earlier when I first came in. I asked you about the baseball game.”

  “Oh, yeah. You’re the architect, right?

  “That’s right. Graham Hollister.”

  “What are you doing down here? I thought they were holding everyone upstairs.” The guard nodded toward the elevators as he hitched up his pants. He had the kind of protruding midsection that made it difficult to keep the waist of his pants from sliding down. He also wore glasses with thick black rims. He reminded Graham of a comedian who used to be on TV.

  “I left before they locked the doors.”

  The guard’s attention perked up. “Were you up there when it happened?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t really see anything. There were too many people around.”

  “Doesn’t matter. The cops are going to want to talk to you anyway. They’ll want to talk to everybody who was in that room.”

  “I understand that, but I’m looking for my wife,” Graham explained. “I just want to make sure she’s all right. She came down a few minutes ahead of me. I need to know if she left the building before I arrived.”

  “Not likely. HPD has the place surrounded. Nobody’s allowed in or out.”

  “She may have gotten out before the lockdown. You saw her earlier when we came in. She’s wearing a red dress. Tall, slim, brunette. Very attractive. She may have had a man with her.”

  The guard gave Graham a curious look. “She didn’t come through the lobby. I’m sure I would have noticed.”

  “What about the other exits?”

  “The front entrance was the only one open tonight. The others were locked for the evening. And even if they weren’t, I monitor all the exits from the console. I would have seen her, regardless.”

  “Maybe you stepped away from your desk for a moment. Went to the bathroom or something.”

  “Been right here all night.”

  The guard was starting to get a little impatient, and if Graham wasn’t careful, he might not get anything else out of him. “Look, could you just please check the surveillance recording? It won’t take long.”

  “I’m not authorized to do that.” The guard’s voice noticeably chilled. “Besides, I’ve already told you. Your wife didn’t come through the lobby. She didn’t leave the building through the front exit or any exit. I would have seen her. If she left the party upstairs with some guy, maybe they’re just having a cozy little chat somewhere in the building.”

  He started to turn away, but Graham grabbed his arm. “Wait!”

  The guard jerked away from Graham’s grasp. “Hey, take it easy, buddy. The feds are in control now, okay? I couldn’t help you out even if I wanted to. Now back off before I call a cop over here and have him personally escort you upstairs.”

  The guard’s agitation attracted the attention of two men standing nearby. One was tall, thin and impeccably dressed in a dark suit while the other was shorter, stockier and more rumpled. But they both wore buzz cuts and the unmistakable air of federal authority.

  The taller one said something to his partner and then strode over to where Graham stood with the security guard. “Something wrong here?”

  His tone was low and amicable, but his eyes glinted with steel. He had the look of a regimented man, from his precisely knotted tie to his spit-shined loafers, and Graham knew instinctively that the guy was not someone he’d want for an enemy.

  “I’m Special Agent Delacourt with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.” He flashed his ID and badge. “What seems to be the problem?”

  The guard spoke before Graham had a chance to. “This man says his wife is missing. He wants to look at the security tapes so that he can see if she left the building.”

  The hard eyes turned back to Graham. “When did she leave?”

  “She wasn’t feeling well earlier. She came down for some fresh air. I just want to make sure she’s all right,” Graham said.

  “You have some identification?”

  “Of course.”

  While Graham fished his wallet out of his jacket, the security guard said helpfully, “He’s the architect who designed this building.”

  Delacourt cocked his head. “That right?

  “Yes. My name is Graham Hollister.” He handed his driver’s license to the agent.

  Delacourt glanced at it briefly, then called his partner over. “Becker, you still got that guest list HPD’s circulating?”

  The shorter agent strode toward them. “What’s going on?”

  “See if you can find Graham Hollister on it.”

  While his partner scrutinized a sheet of paper, Delacourt refocused his attention on Graham. “You were at the reception when the shooting occurred?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you see it happen?”

  “No. There were too many people around. The only thing I saw was the ambassador lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Do you know anything about his condition? Is he going to be okay?”

  “We don’t know yet. Did you notice anything unusual before the shooting occurred?”

  Graham didn’t like the way Delacourt was looking at him. It was almost as if he suspected Graham of something. “A waiter dropped a tray of glasse
s right before it happened. It caused a commotion.”

  Delacourt and Becker exchanged glances. “Anything else you can think of?”

  “Not right offhand. Like I said, it was crowded and I wasn’t really paying attention.”

  “Graham Hollister’s on the list all right,” Becker confirmed.

  “He says he’s the architect that designed the building,” Delacourt said.

  Becker’s brows rose. “Oh, yeah? That’s convenient.”

  “Isn’t it?” Delacourt turned back to Graham. “We’re going to need you to come with us.”

  Graham frowned. “Why? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  Delacourt and Becker exchanged another glance. “No one is suggesting that you did.”

  “Then why do you need me?”

  “We’re going to search this building from the ground up. You can save us a lot of time by going over the blueprints with some of our agents.”

  “But—”

  Delacourt gave him the hard look again. “Maybe you didn’t understand me. No one is leaving here until we’ve searched the entire building. The sooner we get started, the sooner you can get out of here and go find your wife.”

  The last thing Graham wanted was to be tied up for hours, but he didn’t have a choice. He nodded wearily and followed the agents across the lobby.

  Chapter Three

  Graham had been sequestered for nearly three hours with a team of FBI agents, State Department officials and HPD officers when Delacourt came in suddenly and announced that he was free to go.

  “Does this mean you’ve found the shooter?” Graham asked as the special agent escorted him to the front entrance.

  “Let’s just say, we no longer think the suspect is in the building.”

  “Why?”

  “We have our reasons.”

  Graham wondered what those reasons were, but he decided that for now it was best to say as little as possible. Until he could find out what was going on with Kendall, the last thing he needed was Delacourt’s continued interest.

  “What about the ambassador? How’s he doing?”

  “Holding his own. That’s about all I can say.” Delacourt nodded to another agent in the lobby. “You haven’t remembered anything else that might help us out?”

  Graham shrugged. “Like I said, there was a lot of confusion. I didn’t even know Garza had been wounded. I didn’t hear a gunshot, although I suppose it could have been masked by the falling tray. I thought at first he’d collapsed from a heart attack. And then I saw the blood on the floor beneath him. That’s all I remember.”

  “What about the waiter who dropped the tray? You said he had dark hair, an average build. Any distinguishing marks? Scars, moles anything at all that you can recall?”

  Graham shook his head. “Nothing more than what I’ve already told you. I didn’t really get a good look at him. After he dropped the tray, everyone around him scrambled to get out of the way. And then a second or two later, I saw the ambassador lying on the floor.”

  The agent fished in his pocket and brought out a card. “Details sometime come back once the adrenaline settles. If you think of anything, no matter how insignificant it may seem, give me a call at this number.”

  Graham pocketed the card and nodded. “I will.”

  He started to walk away, but Delacourt said suddenly, “Hey, what about your wife? Have you heard from her?”

  “No, not since earlier. I guess I’m meeting her at home.”

  As Graham walked away, he resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder. He had a strange feeling that Delacourt was standing there watching him. And that he would be hearing from the agent again very soon.

  AS GRAHAM climbed behind the wheel of his BMW a little while later, he started thinking again about Kendall’s strange exit from the reception. And he thought about the way she’d left all those years ago, with only a note to explain her sudden departure. She’d disappeared for months with barely any communication. Graham had had to learn from his best friend that she’d moved to Mexico.

  Back then, Kendall had been a woman he barely knew. A gorgeous, restless creature who had grown tired of her husband’s fifteen-hour workdays. And it wasn’t as though Graham hadn’t seen it coming. He had. He just hadn’t done anything about it. And now this.

  What if she decided to leave him again?

  He cut himself off. He wouldn’t go there. Not until he talked to her.

  The other guests had long since left the building, and the parking garage was nearly deserted. As Graham backed out of his slot, he took out his cell phone and started placing calls.

  He checked the hotel first. He and Kendall had booked a suite at the Warwick for the night so they wouldn’t have to drive all the way back to Austin after the reception. She’d asked to meet at home, but it made more sense that she meant their hotel room.

  But she didn’t pick up in their suite nor had she left a message. Graham tried his brother’s house next and when Ellie answered, he quickly explained why he was calling.

  “She left without saying anything? That’s odd,” Ellie murmured.

  “You didn’t see her?” Graham asked anxiously.

  “I looked for both of you before we left, but after the shooting everything was so chaotic. I was scared to death that some madman was going to open fire into the crowd. It didn’t even occur to me at first that it was an assassination attempt…” She trailed off, and Graham could hear the tremble in her voice. “I can see why you’re worried about Kendall. I’m still so shaky I don’t want to let Terrence or the girls out of my sight. But you say…she left before the shooting? Why would she leave without telling you?”

  “I don’t know. I was hoping you could tell me. You said she seemed quiet at lunch today. Did she say or do anything that might give me a clue?”

  Ellie sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t help you, Graham. But I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. She’ll turn up. She may even be back at the hotel waiting for you now.”

  “I just tried the suite. She’s not there.”

  “Well, then, she may be on her way. You’ve called her cell?”

  “Of course, I have. It’s turned off.”

  “Do you want one of us to drive over to the Warwick and check the suite?”

  Their house in the Museum District was only a few blocks from the hotel, but Graham was already pulling onto the street. He was waylaid for a moment by a police officer at the garage exit who checked his ID, then waved him on.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I’m on my way over there now. I’ll check it out for myself.”

  “Let me know if you hear anything.”

  “I will. Thanks, Ellie. I’m sure you’re right. It’s probably nothing. We just got our wires crossed.”

  But if it was a misunderstanding, he would have heard from her by now. Besides, a simple mix-up wouldn’t explain her sudden departure from the reception or the phone call a few minutes later. I’ve done things, Graham…

  He drew a breath and wondered why he hadn’t told Ellie about that phone call. Maybe because he didn’t want to attach too much importance to it, but how could he not? The ominous conversation had been playing in his head for hours, niggling at his peace of mind.

  Kendall was gone. And for all Graham knew, she might not be coming back.

  He slammed his palm against the steering wheel in frustration. The downtown traffic was still heavy even at that time of night, and he suddenly felt as if every minute that went by put him further away from Kendall. His first impulse was to drive straight home to Austin where she’d promised to meet him, but he wanted to check their room first.

  When he pulled up in front of the Warwick, he didn’t bother parking, but instead jumped out and tossed his keys to the valet, telling the young man that he would only be a minute.

  He called the room again on his cell phone as he hurried toward the elevator. Still no answer.

  As he let himself into their darkened suite, Graham could no longe
r deny that something was very wrong. He’d been trying for hours to convince himself there had to be a logical explanation for everything that had happened.

  But now, standing in the room with the scent of his wife’s perfume lingering in the air, he finally admitted to himself that she wasn’t just gone. She was very likely in trouble. And he didn’t know what in the hell to do about it.

  Even though he knew she wasn’t there, he went through the suite, calling her name, checking the bedroom, the bathroom and finally the closet. The clothes she’d brought for their overnight trip were still hanging from the rod, her shoes lined up neatly on the floor and her suitcase tucked away in a corner.

  She hadn’t been back to the room. All her things were exactly the way she’d left them, including the silk robe she’d tossed on the bed earlier as she dressed.

  Graham lifted the silk to his face. Her presence in the room was so palpable he expected her to come walking in at any second.

  But she didn’t.

  He went over to the window and stared out at the city lights as he wondered where on earth she’d gone to. And what he would do if he couldn’t find her.

  He racked his brain for something—a seemingly throwaway moment perhaps—that would help him. He replayed the entire evening in his head. There had to be something she’d said or done that had alluded to her state of mind.

  Earlier, they’d made love before they left for the reception. Had she held him more tightly than usual? Whispered to him a little more desperately? Had she known when they walked out the door that she wouldn’t be coming back?

  He went over everything time and again, but he kept returning to one moment in particular. Kendall had just come out of the bathroom, the robe belted tightly about her slim waist as she walked over to the closet. But instead of removing her dress, she’d stood for a moment, lost in thought, and a strange look had come over her features. An odd mixture of panic, sadness and resolution.

  She hadn’t been aware of Graham’s scrutiny. He’d stood at the dresser mirror adjusting his tie, but his gaze was on her reflection. Ever since the accident, she’d been uncomfortable in social situations, even though most of the scars had faded. She was a beautiful woman, but Graham knew she still sometimes had doubts about her appearance. The change was just so drastic. Even after all this time, he still sometimes caught her staring at her reflection in the mirror. Now he realized that he had misconstrued her earlier hesitation. He’d thought that she hadn’t wanted to attend the reception.