Chance Destiny Read online

  All she could read from his face was quiet confusion as he shook his head. "I don't have anything anyone would want, except CDs and electronic equipment."

  As Jake moved his head, Sara spotted another small wound. "What happened here?" She indicated the thin cut on his neck, surrounded by the faint beginnings of a bruise.

  "He grabbed my chain," Jake explained, coughing again. "I'm surprised it didn't break."

  "Any other injuries?"

  "Other than a couple of bruises, no."

  Hearing the faint sounds of sirens, Sara patted Jake's ankle again. "Just relax. We'll figure this out."

  * * *

  Police Headquarters, Cascade, WA

  "I'm in charge."

  "That's presuming a lot. Uncle Patrick would want me to take over."

  "You? The company would be bankrupt within a month of you taking over."

  "What, you think you could do better?"

  Jim and Blair exchanged looks from across the conference room. The sister, three nephews and a niece of Patrick Chance that could make the meeting had done nothing but fight from the moment they had arrived. Jim had finally had enough. He let out a shrill whistle. When they had all turned to him, he growled, "I don't care who'll run the company, because right now, I'M IN CHARGE."

  "But..." started Patrick's sister, Georgette Moore, as she flipped back her long blonde hair.

  "No buts." Jim's glare finished off the objections. Then he got down to business. "Do any of you know of any reason why your uncle would be attacked?" Five blank faces stared back at him. "Do any of you know why your uncle's home would be ransacked?"

  The oldest nephew, Tyler Chance, replied, "The main house does contain numerous priceless objects."

  "As far as we can tell, nothing was taken," Blair softly countered.

  "Do any of you know if your uncle has any enemies, either personal or business?"

  They all looked at each other. Georgette offered, "I don't think Patrick has any personal enemies. It would have to be business, but I work for my husband's company, so I wouldn't know."

  "I have never been involved with the family business," Tyler grumbled.

  "That's because Uncle Patrick doesn't like you," Avery Chance sniped. He had yet to give a response that was not dripping in sarcasm. "I think the only one he's let near the business is Paige, so she should know."

  "Not really," Paige Chance replied. "Uncle Patrick had me in the reception area last summer, and said I'd have to wait until I got my degree before getting into management. You can probably find out more from his assistant Julie, once she returns from Japan."

  "Besides," Georgette's son, Dylan, added snidely, "isn't it your job to find out these things?" He glared at the detectives.

  "Don't you what to help find out who attacked your uncle?" Blair returned.

  Dylan only shrugged.

  "Oh, that would require a depth of feeling lacking in this family," Avery Chance replied.

  "How much longer are we going to be here?" Paige interjected. "I've got class in half an hour."

  With effort, Jim forced himself not to rub his forehead. These people were giving him a headache. "Just one more thing, Miss Chance." He pulled out the picture that had been placed on the desk, minus the broken frame. "The household staff says this is your cousin, Jason, but none of them could remember his last name or where he's currently living."

  Paige glanced at the picture. "Oh, that's Jake, Jake McCartey. Only Uncle Patrick calls him Jason."

  As Jim did a double-take, Georgette nodded. "That's him. Jason is his full name. But I don't know where he is." She turned to her son. "Dylan, didn't you call him?"

  "Why would I call him?" Dylan asked. "I can't stand him and don't know where he is. What about Avery?"

  Avery snorted. "Call the whiner? He's a Californian surfer dude. Probably living out of an ancient van parked along the coast. I doubt he has a phone."

  Tyler pulled himself up to his full height. "I'm sure Uncle Patrick has him listed someplace. He just better not have left the company to him. The beach bum would probably put the money into surf boards or some other lame idea."

  "His Aunt Bonnie might know," Georgette suggested.

  "Or Julie," Paige added. "Do you need anything else?"

  "Not right now, but we may need to talk with all of you again," Blair replied. "Please leave your contact information with our administrative assistant."

  Once the group had filed out and trooped over to Rhonda's desk, Blair closed the door and looked at his partner. "That was a waste of time. What's with those people? You'd think they'd want to know who attacked their uncle."

  Jim shrugged his shoulders. "Most of them are only concerned about controlling the family business. But it wasn't a total lost."

  "Meaning the id of the photo? Doesn't sound too promising, since they say he's a beach bum."

  Jim chuckled. "Calling Jake McCartey a beach bum is like calling Tiger Woods a duffer."

  "What?"

  "I knew he looked familiar. Jake McCartey was a champion surfer. Huge name in the sport with a couple national titles under his belt."

  "You're kidding?"

  "In fact, I saw him compete once down in Maui. Pure poetry on a wave."

  Blair blinked as his mind changed directions. "Okay. Can we track him down through... does surfing have a circuit like racing, or just individual competitions?"

  Jim shook his head. "That won't help us, Chief. McCartey took a bad spill in the late nineties and got out of the sport. But I can see if I can drum up something through my contacts."

  Blair looked at the picture again. "I wonder why McCartey was singled out. There were other pictures still on the floor. Do you think the perp is a fan?"

  Jim frowned. "Then why not just take it?"

  "Because it wasn't autographed?" Blair joked.

  But Jim continued to stare at the picture. "I hope that's all he wanted. By the sounds of it, Tyler Chance thinks McCartey could be one of the major inheritors of the estate. That would make him a good kidnap victim."

  "We had a whole room full of potential victims, Jim," Blair pointed out.

  "All of whom, as you noted, don't seem to give a damn about their uncle, only the company. If Patrick Chance feels the same way except for McCartey..."

  "And if the perp didn't find what he wanted..."

  "McCartey could be a target."

  * * *

  Pezzini's apartment, NY

  Sara stepped out of the bathroom combing her hair. Glancing at the couch, she noted that Jake was still sound asleep. The poor man had been wiped by the time the ER had stitched up his arm. Knowing that forensics would still be combing through his place and remembering the condition of his mattress, Sara had dragged Jake home with her. Ever the gentleman, Jake had refused to take her bed and had promptly sacked out on the couch with a couple of blankets. In spite of an occasional cough, he seemed to be finally getting some rest, even if it was drug-induced.

  Probably just as well; she most likely would have fallen off the couch. The Witchblade had her tossing and turning with flashes of images, ranging from medieval knights, ancient ships, thundering horse chases, and a blond, pre-teen boy whose blue eyes reminded her suspiciously of Jake. While Sara didn't know what was going on, she had a bad feeling her rookie was still in danger.

  The phone rang. Sara grabbed it before it could wake up Jake. Walking back into the bathroom, she answered, "Pezzini."

  The voice of her captain roared into her ears. "How's McCartey?"

  Sara glanced back through the open door. "Still sleeping, sir."

  "Doctor take care of his arm?"

  "Yes, sir, and prescribed antibiotics and pain meds."

  "Good. Woo mentioned that he's been coughing, too. Serious?"

  "I don't think so. But that's why I'm letting him sleep."

  "Good, good. We've had too many people with Trade Center cough and I don't want to lose McCartey. Especially since you're nearly done training him."
<
br />   "Yes, sir." That concern had also been in the back of Sara's mind. The fine, semi-toxic dust from the aftermath of the Twin Towers collapse had been hard on a lot of people's lungs. Jake had spent many days volunteering at Ground Zero and had admitted to her that the dust, among other things, had started to get to him.

  "Woo said that McCartey has no idea who did this?"

  "That is correct, sir. And it didn't seem like a robbery to me."

  "I agree. I already have a couple of detectives looking into McCartey's cases. I also want you and Woo, especially you, to think if there's anyone out there who may try to get to you through McCartey."

  Sara had wondered that herself. "Yes, sir."

  "Next question, do you think McCartey could be doing something on the side?"

  Sara's back straightened as her emerald eyes narrowed. "Jake's clean, sir."

  "That's an awfully nice apartment on a cop's salary."

  "He has money from his surfing days. And it's not extravagantly furnished."

  "I know, I know, but until the we can pin this down, the question will come up."

  Sara sighed. Cops always seemed to be under suspicion. While 9-11 had significantly improved their image, the accusation of 'bad cop' still could rise all too easy to the surface.

  "In the meantime, I want you to keep an eye on him. I've got a bad feeling this isn't over."

  "Me, too, sir."

  As Sara disconnected, she could hear another soft ring. She was frowning at the receiver in her hands when the second ring came distinctively from the other room. Darting out the door, she found Jake sitting up and answering his cell phone.

  Sara turned towards her kitchen area in order to give her houseguest some privacy when Jake suddenly jumped to his feet. "What! Is he okay?... What are his injuries?... Which hospital?" Sara turned back, worried, as she watched Jake start to pace as he listened. "The cops want to talk with me? Do you know why?... Yeah, Georgette's rarely full of information unless it's about her." Jake dropped back to the couch as he rubbed his face. "Yeah, I'll fly out the minute I can get a flight... I'll work it out... No, Aunt B, if there's someone running around with a knife, I'd rather you stay in California... Thanks for calling me, and I'll let you know what I find out... Bye, Aunt Bonnie."

  As Jake hung up the phone, Sara repeated, "Running around with a knife? What's going on?"

  "The Hell if I know," Jake replied. He closed his eyes as he coughed. Sara realized he was almost as pale as he had been the night before. "Apparently, my uncle Pat was attacked in his home by someone with a knife. He's currently in ICU."

  "Damn, Jake." Sara walked over to lay a hand on Jake's shoulder. "Could this be related to your attack last night?"

  "I don't know. Aunt Bonnie didn't have any details. She only found out this morning from one of my aunts on the Chance side. But considering the Cascade cops are interested in me, I'm not ruling it out."

  "Cascade?" Sara asked.

  "Cascade, Washington. That's where most of my mom's family lives. Uncle Pat runs the family's logging and lumber business. He's always been real good to me." Jake looked up into Sara's face. "I just don't get it. Everyone respects Uncle Pat, and he's getting up there in years. He's even thinking about retiring. I think the only reason he hasn't done it yet is because he's waiting to give my cousin Paige time to finish school and get some experience before handing the reins over to her."

  "Nobody else in the family who could run it?" Sara asked.

  Jake gave a hard laugh that ended up in a cough. "Lots of contenders. Mom was one of six kids, and they've all had one to four kids except Uncle Pat. But most of them you wouldn't want to run an ice cream stand, let alone Chance Industries."

  "What about you?" Jake had never mentioned anything about his family before, so Sara was curious.

  "He's offered me a job a few times, but it's not what I want to do. He understands that." Jake looked back down at his hands. "I could barely hold that guy off last night. If it's the same one... Man, Pez, he's like a second father to me. I've got to get there."

  Sara squeezed his shoulder. "Let's call up the captain, then see about getting you a flight."

  * * *

  Police Headquarters, Cascade, WA

  "Sandburg! Ellison! My office!"

  Jim and Blair shared a 'what did you do now?' look, then walked into the office of their captain, Simon Banks. As they stood in front of the tall man's desk, Blair enquired politely, "Yes?"

  "Yes, sir, to you," Simon reminded him as he leaned back and waved at the chairs. Once Jim and Blair were seated, he placed his unlit cigar in the ashtray. "You're still looking for that McCartey guy for the Chance case, right?"

  Jim nodded. "One of my contacts says he's on the east coast, but wasn't sure where."

  Simon grinned widely. "Now, guess who I just talked to?"

  Jim gave a slight shrug, trying to hide a smile. Obviously, Simon was a step ahead of them and enjoying himself. "No idea."

  "A homicide captain from New York City."

  Blair's eyes grew wide. "Jake McCartey was murdered?"

  Simon glared at him. "No, Jake McCartey is one of his detectives."

  Blair's eyes grew wider. "The surfing heir's a detective?"

  "Sounds like he's a better class than the rest of them, Chief," Jim remarked.

  "And he almost was a murder victim," Simon inserted. "His captain said that McCartey was attacked last night in his apartment by a man with a knife. If he hadn't accidentally left his wallet in the car, and if his training officer hadn't run up to give it back to him, he could have been victim number two."

  "Man, what are the chances of two people in the same family being knifed in their homes within two days?" Blair asked.

  "Pretty good if they're connected," Jim replied. "How willing is the New York PD to work with us?"

  "Very good. His captain says they've lost too many people already and don't want to lose any more." Jim and Blair exchanged glances. They could only imagine how much the NYPD was still hurting after 9-11. "He promises me that one of his other detectives, Danny Woo, will be contacting you soon with what they have at their end."

  "Can we talk to McCartey?" Blair asked.

  Simon nodded. "McCartey is flying out to see his uncle."

  "He could still be a target," Jim pointed out. "The fact that someone had singled out McCartey's picture before he was attacked could mean there's some connection there we haven't made yet."

  "Which is why his captain is sending McCartey's training officer with him. Says Pezzini is one of his best."

  "Still, we better figure out what's going on." Jim glanced between his captain and partner. "Let's get to work, Chief."

  * * *

  Airport, NY

  Danny handed Jake a duffle bag. "I tried to pull together what I could find."

  "That's okay," Jake replied. "I'm sure it wasn't easy with the mess."

  Sara examined the rookie a moment. He was too quiet. Meeting Danny's eyes, she could tell her long-time partner was thinking the same. Deciding to give the two men a chance for some 'guy talk', she waved towards the restroom signs. "I'm taking a break, be back in a few."

  Once she stepped back out, a lean man in a long, black wool coat caught her attention. She rolled her eyes. Ian Nottingham was the last thing she wanted to deal with, but she better do it now. She walked over and glared at him. "What are you doing here? You can't get past security without a ticket." She waved at the line where Danny and Jake were holding her place.

  "Security is barely a hindrance when the reward is to see your beautiful face, Lady Sara," Ian replied, glancing at her before returning his gaze to the floor.

  "Nottingham," Sara growled. "What do you want?"

  "I do not understand why you're taking this trip. McCartey is a big boy who can take care of himself."

  "Jake got sliced last night by a large man with a big knife. I'm going along to make sure that doesn't happen again."

  "You should concentrate on what the
Witchblade wants, Sara. That is your main concern."

  Sara took a step closer. "My main concern is protecting my partner. And the Witchblade agrees. It warned me last night and it's still twitching."

  Ian lifted an eyebrow. "Did it warn you because of what it wants, or what you want?"

  "Maybe we both want the same thing. Something is going on here, and Jake is right in the middle of it. He's not leaving my sight." As Sara spoke, she glanced back at the line to make sure they weren't ready for her yet. When she turned back, Nottingham was gone. "Damn him," Sara muttered.

  "Was that Nottingham?" Danny had joined her, looking around. "Where did he go?"

  "Who cares," Sara sighed.

  "You know, Pez," Danny slowly began. "I'm beginning to think that guy's stalking you."

  "Really?" Sara replied snidely. "What was your first clue?"

  Danny was used to weathering her moods, but he wasn't ready to let this one go. "You should report him."

  "Wouldn't do any good, and he won't hurt me. He thinks he's protecting me."

  "Still you should think about it," Danny returned. "Just because he won't hurt you doesn't mean he won't hurt someone close to you."

  Sara turned to stare at her partner. "He wasn't the one who attacked Jake last night."

  "No," Danny agreed readily. "Jake would have recognized him. But you didn't see the glare he shot at Jake and I before he disappeared. He's jealous, and your partners make good targets."

  Sara sighed. "I'll think about it."

  "That's all I ask," Danny replied. "And in the meantime, keep an eye on Jake, will ya? These last few months have been rough on all of us, and he's more worn out than he'll admit."

  "I know."

  Danny pointedly looked everywhere except at her. "Do you really? You always run off on your own. I spend as much time with him as you do."

  "Danny," Sara started.

  "I don't know what's going on with you, Pez, though I think your stalker's part of it. But right now Jake needs your concentration."

  "And I will." Sara stepped closer so that she could look Danny in the face. "I'll take care of him." She glanced over to see Jake waving at her. "I'd better get in line. Just call me if Sherry delivers before we get back."