Allyn and Ransom – 22

 

 

"I thought you were off today," Thornton said when Ransom came into the conference room early Monday morning. His team was there, looking tense and worried.

 

Ransom nodded, glancing at the board with the pictures of the missing people. Below each one was a list of what he and the team knew—or didn't know—about each person. Walking over, he tacked the photo Allyn had emailed him of Liam at the end of the row.

 

"Another one?" Daniels asked.

 

"Yeah. He was at the film festival party."

 

Daniels looked at Thornton. "I don't remember him. Do you?"

 

"He's vaguely familiar." Thornton smiled dryly. "But considering the… No, wait, I do recall seeing him. He was in the crowd surrounding that actor. Umm, Oliver Wilson. The kid stood out because he was wearing a dark red tux with a red ascot, instead of a bow tie. I thought that was weird, but…" He shrugged.

 

"Was anyone overly interested in him?" Ransom asked.

 

"No. I mean he got a few looks, especially from the women, but that was it."

 

"I've asked the security people at the building to send us the discs from the cameras covering the exits. He should stand out, so at least we'll know which door he used, and if we're damned lucky, they might have caught someone approaching him at that point."

 

"Or he'll have walked away and out of view, the same as with the other vics," Hanna Lane pointed out.

 

"Probably." Ransom frowned, recalling the security video they had showing Ellis Patterson leaving the masked ball. His friends said he was with someone. The tall, dark-haired man, but that didn't show up on the tape. "I wonder," he said aloud, "Does our perp know enough to avoid being filmed?"

 

"Probably," Thornton replied, "considering he's been able to abduct three—and now maybe four—people without anyone seeing it happen.

 

They spent the next half hour going over, once again, what they knew about the presumed victims, adding the details about Liam into the mix.

 

"If we had bodies…" Hanna said at one point.

 

"Then we'd know for certain there really is something going on," Ransom agreed. He was frustrated—and he knew his team was, as well—by the lack of any concrete evidence saying the four missing people really were victims of a crime.

 

A messenger from the Board of Trade building arrived, handing Ransom the discs he'd requested. Ransom booted up the computer, and the team began going through them, looking for the red tux.

 

"Seems like Mr. Kavanagh wasn't the only man wearing red," Johnson said when a beefy man appeared on one disc, going out the front door of the building.

 

"Him I do remember," Daniels commented. "He had more than enough to drink and was pestering some of the young ladies."

 

"There," Ransom said when they moved on to the view from the rear exit of the building. He paused the scene about halfway through, tapping the screen. Liam was just leaving and seemed relieved by the fact. Ransom started the scene rolling again. Liam moved forward, then stopped, looking to his left. He nodded, saying something. For a brief moment, a second man came into the frame before both he and Liam walked out of view of the camera.

 

Ransom backed it up, freezing the view of the man, and zoomed in. "Not much to go on, since we can only see him in partial profile," he said.

 

"Tall, with dark hair, like the description of the man seen with Ellis Patterson," Johnson said.

 

Ransom zoomed in even closer. "Enough of his right eye to tell that it's gray, which helps. Gray eyes are very rare."

 

"Normal nose, normal features, as far as I can tell," Thornton said. "He wouldn't stand out in a crowd."

 

"He didn't," Daniels replied dryly, "if he was inside at the party. And if he was, he didn't make any overt moves on anyone. I was watching for people who did—like the other man in red."

 

Ransom nodded. He hit Print Screen and pasted the image into a document file which he then printed out. "I'm going to show this to someone I know who attended a fair number of society events. He was at the masked ball the night Patterson disappeared. With luck, he might have seen this man."

 

"If it was a masked ball, wouldn't the guy have been wearing a mask too?" Hanna asked.

 

"Undoubtedly, but still, seeing this picture might strike a chord in my friend's memory."

Allyn and Ransom – 21

 

By evening, Allyn was truly worried. He'd called Liam almost every half hour, getting no answer.

 

Where the hell are you? I know you well enough to know you're not still shacking up with someone, cute or not. It's not your style.

 

Finally, Allyn took the bit in his teeth and called Ransom at the station house. It took a few minutes to get transferred to him and when he was, Ransom's first words were, "You're backing out of dinner tomorrow."

 

"No," Allyn replied. "This has nothing to do with dinner. Okay, maybe I'm being paranoid, but a friend of mine who went to the film festival party seems to be missing. Well, I don't know that he is but he hasn't answered his phone all day, which isn't like him."

 

"Does this friend have a name?"

 

"Yeah. Liam Kavanagh, with a K."

 

"Address?"

 

Allyn rattled it off.

 

There was a pause, during which Allyn figured Ransom was writing down the information. Then Ransom asked, a bit waspishly, "Is he the one you told me about? The one you're sleeping with?"

 

Gritting his teeth, Allyn replied, "Yes. I told you, though it's only a casual thing. Remember?"

 

"Yeah." There was a tapping sound before Ransom said, "Describe him."

 

"Five eleven, dark blond hair, blue eyes, slim, but in good shape. Hell, I've got a photo of him if you want."

 

"I want. Email it to me—the sooner the better."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Sorry," Ransom said. "I'm beat and grumpy."

 

"I can tell. Do you want to cancel for tomorrow so you can get some rest?"

 

"Not at all. Even if I decide to work—to follow up on your Mr. Kavanagh—I still want to have dinner with you."

 

"Do you… Could he be a victim of the kidnapper?"

 

"Anything is possible, I'm afraid. The situation is the same. Thornton and Daniels, the two officers covering the film festival party, didn't see anything that triggered their suspicions. But if Kavanagh—"

 

"Liam."

 

"Okay, if Liam was taken after he left, say on the way to his car… What does he drive?"

 

"A 2014 Aston Martin Vantage S. Dark green."

 

"I'll have someone check the lots in the vicinity of the Board of Trade building where they held the party. See if his car is anywhere in the area. That will tell us if he left on his own—in which case he's probably fine and just too busy to answer his phone—or if he left with someone. Even then…"

 

"I know. It could have been by his own volition. But…" Allyn was tempted to tell him Liam always answered his calls, but knew that wouldn't be true if Liam had gone home with someone who piqued his interest. After all, in spite of our relationship, he's no saint.

 

"Don't worry," Ransom said quietly. "We'll find your friend."

 

"I'm sure you said the same thing to people who were worried about the other missing people."

 

"True. Do you know how to get hold of Liam's family?"

 

"There's only his father, and they're estranged, so no."

 

"Is there anything else you can tell me about him?"

 

Allyn thought for a moment. "He does have a habit of dressing a bit over-the-top, even when he's in formal wear. So knowing him, his tux might have been flashy, or he'd have accented it with something off the wall."

 

"Says the man who was wearing a blue tux to the ballet gala," Ransom replied with a low chuckle.

 

"Believe me, next to Liam, that was nothing." Allyn sighed. "Just…find him if you can."

 

"We're going to try to. Get the picture you have and send it to me, ASAP. I'll show it to my team. Hopefully, when Thornton and Daniels see it, they'll remember him and maybe recall him leaving, and when."

 

"Among hundreds of other people?" Allyn asked doubtfully.

 

"We can only hope."

 

"Yeah. Okay, I'll let you go and shoot you the photo."

 

"All right. I'll call if we find out anything—and either way, I'll see you tomorrow night."

 

'A Prince in Hiding' is out today!

 A Prince in Hiding

 

https://www.jms-books.com/edward-kendrick-c-224_229/a-prince-in-hiding-p-5514.html

 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FP1SCVB7?ref

 

GENRE: Gay Fantasy Spicy Romance
LENGTH: 48,095 words
RATING:

When his father the king dies, Prince Rouland's uncle Sewal accuses him of using magic to murder him. He has the palace wizard bind Rouland's magic then orders his execution, planning on taking over the throne as the heir apparent. However, Rouland manages to flee the city, only to be arrested for stealing bread from a baker's shop. With no magic, he must rely on his thieving skills and the aid of his familiar, Ebony, to escape the jail.

On the run, he finds a safe haven at Bernard's farm. He leaves when Bernard learns who he truly is, but only after Bernard suggests he find a powerful wizard to break the binding of his magic.

Soon after, Rouland meets Jarvis, a farmer's son who asks if he may join him in his travels. Rouland agrees and the pair begins to bond. He lets Jarvis know about his thieving skills, but not the truth of who he is -- until forced to in order to explain why he's searching for a wizard. Jarvis accepts it with no reservations as by then they have become more than merely friends.

The question becomes, can Rouland find a wizard willing to help him? If so, will Rouland be able to stop his uncle Sewal's coronation as the new king and take his rightful place as heir to the throne?

EXCERPT:

Footsteps moved to the barn door, it opened and closed, and then there was silence. Rouland gave it a few moments then started to stand, freezing when he heard the ladder creak. ::Why didn't you warn me, Ebon?:: he asked tightly.

::Because I'm up here, too, in the corner.::

::Yeah, well ...::

"I know someone's up here," the (farmer's) son said from the top of the ladder. "You might as well show yourself."

Biting his lip, Rouland complied. "I'm harmless," he said, holding his arms away from his sides.

The son, who was around Rouland's twenty-and-four years he thought, nodded. "As long as you don't draw your dagger I'll believe you."

Keeping his hand away from it, Rouland studied him. He had shaggy blond hair, most of it tied back although a few strands framed his face. A decent face, with bright hazel eyes and a straight nose, had been tanned by the sun -- or so he supposed.

"Do you have a name?" the son asked.

"Do you?" Rouland retorted.

The son smiled. "I'm known as Jarvis, son of Perrin."

Rouland gave a brief bow. "I am Rond, son of; well it matters not as my father is dead."

"And who is that?" Jarvis asked, gesturing to Ebony who had put in an appearance next to Rouland.

"She's Ebony, my constant companion on my ... journey."

Rouland stepped back to allow Jarvis to finish climbing the ladder and sit on the edge of the loft with his legs dangling.

"Join me? I don't bite, I promise," Jarvis said, patting the space beside him.

"You're being quite friendly for finding a stranger in your barn," Rouland commented as he settled a few feet away from him.

Jarvis gave a small shrug. "It's not often I meet someone new. I'd like to learn more about you before deciding if my friendship, as you put it, is warranted. If not, I'll send you packing."

"Without telling your father I was here?"

Jarvis gave him a long look. "You seem harmless enough and you're pleasing to the eye which is rare in these parts."

Rouland wondered if he meant more by that than a mere compliment, but wasn't about to ask. "What would you like to know?"

"Oh, many things but mostly to begin with, why are you hiding in our barn?"

"It was raining, we saw the barn and took a chance we could use it for shelter until the storm passed."

"Are you a tramp or some such?"

Rouland spread his hands. "Not a tramp but for the moment homeless."

"Why?" Jarvis asked, appearing quite interested in what Rouland might reply.

"As I said, my father is dead. My mother as well. She died of the grippe a year or so ago. I decided it was time for me to make my way in the world as best I could."

Rouland sighed. "Not that I've been too successful."

"I wish ..." Jarvis started to say, and then stopped.

"You wish what?"

"I suppose that I had your gumption. I would dearly love to take off and leave the farm and all the work my father expects me to do behind. He knows I hate this life but he's unwilling to give me my freedom."

"Perhaps because he needs you to keep it running?"

Jarvis shook his head. "I have two brothers, both older than me, and we all work the land with him."

"When I first arrived there was a woman and a child. Are they family, too?"

"My sister. She was visiting Mother. She and her husband live on the next farm over from ours. My brothers would be here, but father sent them off to help an elderly neighbor with their harvest, leaving me to do the work of three."

"I'm certain the neighbor appreciates their help."

Jarvis snorted. "More that father appreciates the coin they will be paid for their work, which they will turn over to him."

"Hardly fair," Rouland commented.

"Our life isn't fair," Jarvis spat out. "If I had it in me, I'd leave this instant."

"With only the clothes on your back?" Rouland asked with a quick grin.

"Well ... I do have more, and a knapsack like yours. If I had what it took, I'd pack my clothes and ..."

Jarvis leaned back on his hands, looking at Rouland in question, and then asked, "I don't suppose you'd like a traveling companion. One who can answer back when you talk to them?"

::Little does he know,:: Ebony said, laughter in her words.

"You might be asking for trouble. We both might if your father sends your brothers out looking for you," Rouland pointed out.

"What if ..." Jarvis gnawed his lip. "If I were to pack a few things this evening while you waited here. I could sneak out after everyone's abed and we would have the whole night to get as far from here as possible." He gazed hopefully at Rouland.

"You're serious? I mean really, truly serious? It would be a big step which you might regret too soon."

"I have prayed every day for a chance to escape my life, even if I didn't have the backbone to do anything about it because it was only me. If I had you by my side, then yes, I would gladly leave and damn the consequences. Well, as long as they didn't find me."

::What to you think, Ebon? Is it worth the risk?::

::We have nothing to lose, other than adding one more mouth to feed, and he would be a good cover for us. Your uncle is looking for you, not a pair of young men who would, to all appearances, be traveling companions of a like mind.::

::You think he…?::

Ebony chortled in his head. ::I think he has as much in common with you on that level as Giles did.::

::Oh. Oooh.::

::Close your mouth before you drool.::

::Ebony!::

"You're awfully quiet," Jarvis said morosely. "Does that mean you're trying to figure out how to tell me politely you're not interested in having me join you on your journey?"

 

Allyn and Ransom – 20

 

Grigore nodded in appreciation. At least this one was using his brain. He had watched from a distance as his prey had covered his body with dirt. Not that it made any difference in the grand scheme of things. Grigore still knew exactly where the young man was, even though he was a good quarter of a mile away. The lad was moving slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible. If Grigore had been human, he might have lost him—but he wasn't. He could hear every footstep, every breath, his prey made, and smell his blood.

 

An hour passed. The bright moon was beginning to lower, casting long shadows between the trees. Moving closer but staying hidden, Grigore saw the young man pause for a moment, looking around and up. Intentionally, Grigore stepped on a fallen branch. It snapped under his foot. The lad spun around, panic written on his face and in the way he held his body. Instead of running, however, as Grigore had expected, his prey made a leap for a low tree branch, pulling himself up, then climbing higher.

 

Clever. You are definitely better than the others.

 

Grigore waited. His prey waited. After a time, very carefully, the young man climbed down to the ground. Inch by inch, he crept deeper into the trees, and closer to the wall surrounding the estate.

 

Remaining where he was, Grigore listened. A few minutes later he heard a low moan and the whispered words, "No. No. How…?" He knew his prey was at the wall. He heard him moving along it, undoubtedly looking for a tree—other than the multitude of pines by the wall—he could shimmy up to get to the top. The lad's breath was coming in terrified pants now. Grigore could read his dread—smell it emanating from his pores.

 

Silently Grigore followed, moving closer with each step. It was dark beside the wall. The young man was creeping along, dragging his hand across the bricks, obviously praying he'd find a door, a gate—some way to escape.

 

"You have played the game well," Grigore pronounced, finally stepping into view.

 

His prey gasped, pressing against the wall, his hands fisted in front of him.

 

"Because you have exceeded my expectations, I shall make your death swift and painless." Then Grigore attacked. The lad tried to run, to fight, to no avail. Grigore was on him seconds later, tearing open his throat, drinking deeply until his prey was dead. Then he picked up the lifeless body. Throwing it over his shoulder, he carried it to the burying ground.

Allyn and Ransom – 19

 

 

Liam was shivering. For a moment he couldn't figure out why, until he realized he was naked. Naked and in a room he didn't recognize.

 

Then it all came back to him.

 

He had left the gala feeling a bit forlorn. Even though he had enjoyed himself, he'd missed being able to share it with Allyn. It had been well after midnight and he'd savored the cool air—relishing it, in fact, as the building had been almost too warm, thanks to all the people there.

 

"Leaving already?" someone had said from behind him.

 

He'd turned to see a tall, dark-haired man standing there. "I figured I'd beat the crowds," Liam had replied.

 

"I can't say that I blame you. I feel the same way." The man had tapped his lip. "I was watching you in there. You seem to be having a great deal of fun."

 

"I'm a film addict," Liam had admitted. "And when Oliver Wilson… You know who he is?"

 

"Yes. The star of the indy film that was such a hit at Sundance."

 

"Have you seen it? Wasn't he absolutely fantastic?"

 

Liam remembered he and the man had started trading stories about the films they liked and didn't like. Somehow, in the process, Liam had ended up in the man's car. That was the last he recalled until the man had led him into this…basement? Why did he…? Liam's eyes widened in horror, his pulse pounding when he touched two fingers to his neck. He pulled them away, puzzled. He bit me! I know he did. He had fangs and he bit me. He thinks he's a vampire. He's crazy. He must have given me something… Liam tried to remember if he'd eaten or drunk anything and couldn't.

 

I have to get out of here. He looked around for his clothes. Nothing. The room was barren except for a door, a window high on one wall—pale light coming through it—and a set of shelves along another one. He staggered to his feet, waited a moment for the dizziness to pass, then went to the door. It was locked. He shook the handle, screaming for help. All he got in return were his words echoing off the walls.

 

Next he tried to reach the window. His fingers barely touched the sill and he was too weak to jump then try to pull himself up. Not that it would do any good. It's probably locked too. Still…

 

He looked at the shelves, wondering if he could move them under the window. Going over to the shelves, he began to tug at them. They moved, and when they did, he saw there was something behind them. A door. Another door. Please, God, let it be unlocked.

 

He turned the handle. The door opened.

 

"Thank you. Thank you."

 

Cautiously he peered past it. There was a long hallway, the only light coming through the window high above the floor, halfway down. At the far end, he saw another door. Heart in hand, he made his way to the three stairs leading to the door. Once again he prayed it would open, and not into the rest of the house—or wherever he was. He pushed the door open.

 

Ahead of him was a short stretch of grass. Above him, the almost full moon gave enough light for him to see the trees surrounding the lawn. For a second he wondered about the wisdom of taking off when he wasn't wearing anything, including shoes. The hell with it. I have to get away from here before that crazy bastard knows I'm missing. Taking a deep breath, he dashed madly across the lawn into the forest.

 

"Going somewhere?"

 

Liam spun around. The man, dressed all in black, was standing on a veranda several yards from where Liam had exited.

 

"I will give you a five minute head start," the man said. "If you can escape, more power to you. If not, I will feed on you, draining the last drop of blood from your carcass, then dispose of you as I have the others."

 

"You're crazy!" Liam shouted. Suddenly it hit him. He wasn't this man's only victim, from what he'd said. Liam remembered the news stories of the guy who had vanished after the masked ball. He started to shake in fear.

 

"Four minutes," the man said, stepping off the veranda to the lawn.

 

Liam turned and ran. There were large trees, smaller ones, and brush. Branches lashed him as he raced by them, but he ignored their stings on his bare flesh and the feel of oozing blood. The ground was covered with leaves and fallen branches. Liam realized almost instantly that he was making noise as he sped pell-mell through the forest, ignoring the pain when he stepped on sharp stones. He came to a stop beside a tall, thick-trunked tree, pressing against it while listening for the sound of pursuit. His feet were in agony now, but he did his best to push the pain to the back of his mind. It would only interfere with his ability to come up with a plan to get away from…from the insanity of his situation.

 

He wasn't certain if he was thankful for the moonlight filtering through the branches—since it meant he could see where he was going—or terrified because his captor could see him when he moved. With no clothes, Liam knew his pale skin probably acted as a beacon to the man pursuing him. He inched down to his knees, all the time listening for any sounds that would say the man was nearby. Then he dug through the leafy ground cover to the damp earth beneath it. Taking a handful, he rubbed it over his chest—the pain barely an issue compared to his safety. Digging again and again, he did his best to cover his whole body with the dirt. Not much camouflage, but better than nothing.

 

His pulse was racing. He forced himself to remain calm while trying to figure out which way to go. I came from that way, I think. If I keep the moon to my left, at least I won't be traveling in circles. Creeping slowly forward to the next tree, he stood, using it as cover while he surveyed his surroundings.