Her Mistletoe Protector. Laura Scott

calm, to think this through logically, if she was going to have any chance in finding Joey.

      After several long deep breaths, she felt somewhat calm. “You never did mention how you reached me so quickly,” she said, glancing over at Nick.

      There was a long silence before he admitted, “I followed you and Joey. I guess I was hoping to catch the guy in the act of leaving another note for you.”

      He’d been sitting in the parking lot of the elementary school? She tried to grapple with that revelation. “I didn’t see you,” she said. “And believe me, I was on alert, searching for signs of Frankie or one of his thugs.”

      Nick shifted in his seat. “I stayed in my car, a little ways down the road, just close enough to watch your vehicle.”

      She wasn’t sure that news was reassuring. If she hadn’t seen Nick, maybe she’d missed the driver of the black truck, too? She couldn’t bear the thought that she may have led the kidnapper straight to her son’s location.

      More deep breaths helped rein in her fear. She tried to find comfort in the fact that Nick had cared enough to try to protect her, but the image of her son being kidnapped by the driver of the truck was seared in her mind.

      Helplessly, she gazed down at her phone, looking at the text message again. Don’t call the police or I’ll kill him.

      Why hadn’t they already demanded money? That had to be the reason they’d kidnapped Joey. Nothing else made sense.

      “We should probably stay in a hotel tonight,” Nick said, breaking into her grim thoughts. “Especially because you received those threats at both your office and your home.”

      She pressed her fingertips against her aching temples, trying to think. “I guess a motel would be okay.”

      “It’s our best option. For now.”

      She understood the warning implication in his tone. This was a temporary plan at best. She stared down at her cell phone for another long moment, willing the kidnapper to contact her again. The sooner they told her how much money they wanted, the sooner she could get her son back, safe and sound.

      “Tell me what you know about Frankie Caruso,” Nick said quietly.

      Her stomach twisted into painful knots. “I’m afraid I don’t know much. I only met him for the first time at our engagement party and then again at our wedding. I knew he’d raised Anthony after his parents died, but I didn’t know about their link to the Mafia. Not until after we were married.”

      Nick glanced at her, and she wondered if he thought she was an idiot for not figuring out what was going on sooner. She’d often asked herself the same thing. She didn’t like to think about how naive she was back then. She graduated college early and by twenty-five had worked her way up in her father’s company to vice president. Hours of studying meant she hadn’t dated much. Anthony had swept her off her feet with his dashing good looks and his charm.

      It was only after they were married for a few months that she caught a glimpse of his dark side. But by then she’d discovered she was pregnant and tried to make the marriage work.

      Until she was on the receiving end of his violent temper.

      “Has Frankie been living here in Chicago?” Nick pressed.

      “Early on, he did, but after Anthony won his second term as state senator, Frankie moved down to Phoenix. Anthony told me that his uncle was tired of the brutal Chicago winters.”

      “But you think Frankie’s back in the area?”

      She lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “Honestly, I haven’t kept track of Anthony’s uncle in the years since our divorce. I was lucky to get away from Anthony early in our marriage, shortly after Joey’s first birthday.” Two years of marriage that had seemed like a lifetime. “I suspect that since Anthony is dead, Frankie might have come back to take his place within the Mafia.”

      “Rachel, there isn’t much of the Mafia left for him to return to,” he said. “I happen to know that Bernardo Salvatore and his right-hand man, Russo, are both dead.”

      The news surprised her. “Really? How?”

      He pressed his lips into a grim line. “I can’t go into details other than to tell you that I was there when they were killed. You have to consider there might be someone else besides Frankie Caruso after you.”

      “I’m telling you there’s no one else I can think of,” she said, wishing he would believe her. “Besides, if Salvatore and this Russo guy are dead, then it makes even more sense to me that Frankie came back to Chicago. Clearly he wants to pick up the crime syndicate where Salvatore left off.”

      “Maybe. I’ll try running a search on him,” Nick murmured. “It’s possible we’ll get lucky.”

      She didn’t bother to tell Nick that she didn’t feel lucky. The thought of her son being held by the Mafia, alone and afraid, made fear clog her throat to the point she could barely breathe. Outside the passenger-side window, she stared at the holiday decorations lighting up people’s houses. Would Joey be back in time for Christmas? She couldn’t even imagine the possibility that he wouldn’t be.

      Nick pulled up to a low-budget motel and secured two connecting rooms. She reluctantly took her room key from his hand, knowing she couldn’t relax, couldn’t rest.

      Not until she found her son.

      * * *

      “Rachel?” She glanced up when she heard Nick call her name from the open doorway between their rooms.

      “What is it?” she asked, rising to her feet and crossing over to meet him in the doorway.

      “Are you hungry?”

      She grimaced and shook her head. “No.” The mere thought of food made her nauseous. “You mentioned doing a search on Frankie Caruso. Do you have a laptop with you?”

      “Yeah, I have my laptop,” Nick replied. “So far, I haven’t found much.”

      Frankie Caruso was too smart to leave an obvious trail. She kept her phone gripped in her hand, unable to bear the thought of losing the small link that she had with Joey’s kidnapper. She hated to think of what her son might be suffering through right now. Why hadn’t they contacted her again? What were they waiting for? “We have to keep searching. We have to find something!”

      “Rachel, I know you’re upset, but there isn’t much more I can do. If we don’t hear something soon, we’ll have no choice but to pull in the FBI.”

      “No. We can’t.” The very thought of bringing in the authorities nearly made her double over in pain. “Your boss promised us some time, right? I’m sure the kidnappers will contact me soon.”

      “All right.” There was a hint of disappointment in his gaze. She told herself she didn’t care what Nick thought of her. He couldn’t possibly imagine what she was going through. Or what she’d already suffered at the hands of the Mafia. She’d lived with Anthony for two long terrible years and had learned early on that confronting the Mafia directly only made them angry.

      She didn’t want the man who’d kidnapped Joey to take his anger out on her son.

      “I’m going to get something to eat,” Nick said over his shoulder. “Stay here and don’t let anyone in except for me.”

      “Can I use your laptop while you’re gone?” she asked.

      He shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

      She waited for him in the doorway, gratefully taking the computer from his hands. “Thank you.”

      “I’ll be back soon,” he said huskily, and he closed the connecting door on his side.

      She opened the computer and tried to think of what little she remembered from those early days with Anthony—the places he went, the people he considered