Jeff Tracy thanked the man on his video screen and severed the connection. Finally left on his own, he shut his eyes and leaned forward, covering his face with his hands.
By his count, Alan had been missing for over twelve hours now, and even with all the men and women out looking for him, they were no closer to finding his son than they were when they started.
If only there was a ransom . . . Jeff couldn't imagine why someone would want to take his son if not for money. It was well known that he was rich. If Alan's kidnappers wanted money, they would get it. Anything to see Alan again.
"Jeff."
Jeff straightened abruptly and stood, turning to face the owner of the familiar, cultured tone that had spoken. "Penny."
Lady Penelope crossed the room and enveloped Jeff into a tight but brief hug. "The boys contacted me. Are you all right?"
Jeff nodded. "We've got every person available out looking for Alan." His voice softened. "Thanks for coming."
Lady Penelope smiled faintly. "What are friends for? I brought with me some friends from Scotland Yard, and they're even now speaking with the men in charge of the investigation. Parker's with them. We'll find him."
Jeff nodded, grateful for his friend's presence as well as her assistance. "Penny . . . why haven't they called? If it was for money, they would have left a note or something. What else could they want?"
"I don't know, but we'll find out," Lady Penelope stated confidently. "Whoever took Alan won't get away with it."
Jeff felt the angry determination kindle inside of him once again. Lady Penelope saw it reflected in his eyes and felt a wave of satisfaction roll through her. As long as Jeff remained focused on the task at hand, they would be able to move mountains.
" . . . still no leads as to the whereabouts of reclusive billionaire Jeff Tracy's youngest son. Even as we speak, the largest search ever recorded is presently underway for the missing teenager. It seems only a matter of time before something turns up. Stay posted for further details. This is-."
Chris shut the television off with a vengeance and threw the remote aside. "I should have expected this."
His three sons sat around the living room, watching their father expectantly. Each of them had the same blond hair and blue eyes as their father.
The eldest son, who was nearing thirty years in age, spoke up first. "Dad, you know that Jeff Tracy wouldn't just sit idly by. I mean, we did take his kid."
"And from what you've told us about him, he won't stop until he finds Alan," his middle son added.
Chris nodded absently. "You're absolutely right, boys. I know that, if any of you were taken, I would do the same. But Jeff Tracy is a bad man. He can't get his claws back into Alan again. It's our duty as Alan's family to keep that from happening."
His youngest son, who was twenty-four-years old, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Dad, maybe we reacted hastily. I mean, maybe we should have tried just contacting Alan before all this."
Chris turned to him, eyes narrowed. "Are you telling me you feel sorry for Jeff Tracy, Elliot?"
Elliot shook his head quickly. "No, of course not! But look at what's happened! Nearly every single person east of the Mississippi River is looking for the kid. It's going to be that much harder for us to keep a low profile."
Elliot glanced at his older brothers, then turned back to his father. "Maybe we should send Alan's dad a note. Let him know that Alan is safe, and to tell him to quit searching."
Chris mulled the suggestion over. Gradually, he began to nod. "The idea has merit." He turned to his eldest. "Luke, go get some paper. We'll have Alan write the note for us."
Luke nodded, stood, and hurried from the room.
"What if Alan won't write it?" Chris' middle child asked.
Chris' face became stern. "Alan is a spirited child, Josh, but all he needs is a little discipline. I think it's time he understood that."
Josh and Elliot exchanged knowing looks. A wave of pity passed between them.
As soon as the locks began to rattle against the door, Alan leaped to his feet and backed against the wall. He didn't know whether to believe Chris or not. But the man was unstable, and Alan knew that unstable men were dangerous.
Chris entered the room, this time with another blond man, this one a little older than Scott. Alan's eyes flickered from one to the next, wondering what they wanted now.
"Alan, I want to introduce you to your cousin, Luke," Chris stated, gesturing to the new man. "He helped bring you to me."
"You mean he helped kidnap me," Alan spat back.
"It seems like that now, but you'll change your mind soon enough," Chris replied calmly. He set some paper and a pencil on the dresser. Alan looked at it.
"What do you want now?" he demanded.
"It appears that your father is a little . . . unhappy with your new situation," Chris answered.
Alan smirked. "I'll bet he is. You guys are in so much trouble now."
Chris took a menacing step forward, effectively wiping the smirk from Alan's face as he flinched in fear. Chris paused and took a deep breath.
"You will be writing a letter to your father, telling him to call off the search," Chris told Alan.
"And why would I do that?" Alan snapped.
"Alan, you're only making things harder on yourself," Luke spoke up. "Just write the letter."
Alan folded his arms across his chest. "No."
"Alan."
Chris' even tone sent a shiver down Alan's spine. The man was obviously controlling his true emotions, but Alan was rapidly pushing him to the breaking point. There was no telling what Chris might do to him if he lost that tenuous grip on his anger.
Alan jutted his chin out and steeled himself. "Forget it."
Chris and Luke looked at each other. Luke stepped forward and grabbed Alan's arm in a tight grip, forcing him over to the dresser. Alan struggled against Luke, trying to pull away.
"Let go!" Alan shouted. "I won't do it! Leave me alone!"
Luke gave a mighty tug, sending Alan crashing against the dresser with such force that the figures and pictures flew to the ground. Alan let out a cry of pain, sinking to his knees beside the dresser.
Luke's hand moved to the back of Alan's neck and forced him up onto his feet. Alan gasped, his hands flying to his neck.
"Alan, Alan, Alan." Chris moved closer, his light blue eyes piercing Alan's. "If you plan on being a member of this family, you are going to have to realize that I am in charge. You will not disobey me. Is that understood?"
Alan summoned up all of his outrage. "I'm not a member of your family! My name's Alan Tracy! I am Jeff Tracy's son! Nothing you could ever say or do would ever change that! Ever!"
A shadow passed over Chris' face. He nodded at Luke, who released Alan. Alan sank back to the ground at Chris' feet. He dimly heard the door shut and knew that he was alone with Chris.
"I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to this, but you've given me little choice." Alan felt a tight grip on his arm, and he was forced up from the ground and thrown at the bed. As he turned around to face Chris, he saw that Chris had removed his belt and was holding it at his side. Fear coiled in Alan's stomach.
"Write the letter," Chris ordered.
Alan swallowed thickly. "No."
Chris stepped forward, raised the belt, and brought it down. Pain exploded across Alan's arm, which he had raised to defend himself. He cried out, curling in on himself.
"Write the letter," Chris said again.
Alan blinked back tears to glare at Chris. "No!"
Chris struck him again, the belt swiping most of Alan's back. Alan choked back another scream, trying to twist away.
"Write it!" Chris yelled.
"I won't!" Alan shouted back.
Chris hit him again. And again. And again. Alan did his best to avoid the sharp buckle and the sting of the leather, but Chris was too fast for him. Pain exploded throughout his body. With each demand Chris gave, Alan resisted. As much as he hurt, and as much as Chris persisted, Alan refused to give in.
The demands for the letter to be written eventually stopped, and Chris continued to swing the belt down onto the teenager. His face was beet red with exertion, sweat trickling down his face. Alan's cries and pleas to stop fell on deaf ears. Only when Chris felt his arm tire did he stop. Breathing heavily, he stared down at Alan's trembling, bleeding figure.
"Next time, you will obey me," he said calmly.
Alan passed out before the door closed behind the man.