by Dana R. Lynn
“I know.” Paul surveyed the machine grimly. “Which means that our guy knows you survived his earlier attempt. The fact that he was bold enough to come and sabotage this machine terrifies me, Irene. I don’t have enough manpower to watch your house when you’re not here. And I’m afraid he’ll go after your family to get to you.”
She froze. Her boys. Paul was right. The wacko coming after her was vicious enough to use her children against her.
“What do I do?” Was that wobbly voice hers? She sounded like she was all of ten years old. Honestly, she couldn’t take any more. Lord, why? I’m trying to trust You again, but this doesn’t make it easy. Even as she cried out to her God, she knew she had enough faith to continue to trust and believe.
Paul paced, rubbing his hand across his chin as he considered his options. Finally, he nodded. “Your mom...her house is protected with a security system, right?”
She sat up. “Yes. She had it put in several years ago, when someone was after Melanie.”
He stopped pacing and faced her, shoving his hands in his back pockets. “Yeah, I remember that. Irene, I think you should call your mom. Let her know you, the boys and Mary Ann are coming and why. I don’t want her to be taken off guard. There will be continued police protection, but the security system will alert us to any intruders or issues during the day when no one is home. And if I remember right, the retired fire chief is across the street. He knows the drill. Shouldn’t mind keeping an eye on the place.”
Irene didn’t even hesitate. She called her mom, who immediately agreed. Irene hated bringing her problems home to her mother’s door, but knew it was necessary to protect them all. Paul had gone outside to let Thompson in on what had happened. By the time Irene had woken the boys, the two cops had reviewed the kitchen scene and confirmed that the coffee maker had been tampered with.
She heard Thompson mutter, “This dude is either brave or stupid, Chief, messing with your coffee.”
“You got that right,” Paul replied, his familiar drawl back in place.
Shaking her head, Irene went to hurry the boys along.
“We can take Izzy, right, Mom?” Matthew asked, his lower lip pushed out in a slight pout.
“Of course, buddy. Izzy’s family.” She tousled his hair.
“What about the girls?” AJ queried, pushing his glasses up on his little nose.
Oh, boy. That one wasn’t going to go over well with her mom. The “girls” were Jelly Bean and Oreo, a couple of rats the boys had gotten from Jace last year. Irene hadn’t been pleased. Their grandmother had pitched a fit when she’d seen them. But if they stayed here, who knew when they’d get back? And she wasn’t about to return twice a day to feed them. She made an executive decision.
“Get their food together, and we’ll take them. Make sure you have everything they’ll need for several days.”
She monitored the boys packing for a few minutes before hurrying to pack for herself and Mary Ann. Within an hour, they were ready to go.
Irene opened the hatchback and whistled. Izzy hopped up inside. Irene couldn’t help remembering that only a few days ago they’d opened the door to find Mary Ann hidden inside. Shivering, she shut the door and climbed into the driver’s seat. Should she have let Paul drive?
He was looking comfortable in the passenger seat. She had never thought of asking. She glanced back at the seat behind them. Her sons were situated on either side of Mary Ann, taking turns making her laugh. The rats were safely in their cage on the floor at AJ’s feet.
The moment she backed out of the driveway and started down the road, Thompson pulled away from the curb and followed her. The plan was that he would give Paul a ride home once she and the children were situated.
It was a testament to how serious the situation was that her mother saw the rat cage coming into her house and didn’t say anything. Her complexion turned a little green, and one slender, blue-veined hand pressed her mouth as if she were feeling ill. Still, she didn’t protest.
“Sorry, Mom.” Irene muttered, guilt swamping her.
“Never you mind, Irene. We’ll do whatever we need to. All that matters is that you and the kids stay safe.”
That was the end of the conversation. The rats were soon safely tucked away in the boys’ usual room. The room that had once belonged to her sister, she reflected.
Paul didn’t stay inside long after they arrived. He and Thompson did a thorough check of the house and grounds to make sure everything was safe and that the security system was working well. Irene knew a cruiser would be parked outside all night.
Paul himself would be going home. She was embarrassed to realize how much she didn’t want him to leave. But she knew it was best. He didn’t have a vehicle here, and he really needed some sleep. He looked like he wanted to say something.
“What?” she asked.
He sighed, a sound of pure frustration. “Oh, nothing that won’t keep.”
She knew him better than that. Whatever he wanted to tell her, it was important. At least to him. Although she doubted it had anything to do with her safety. If it did, he would have said it, whether her mom was within listening distance or not.
Well, whatever it was, it didn’t matter now. He had gone home, and she was safe inside here. It was better this way.
But even as she shut the door behind him, she had to ignore the sense of loneliness that swept in.
* * *
All he wanted was a cup of coffee. Paul made his way out to the office coffee station and poured some in his favorite travel mug. It was hot. That was good. Already his morning was looking brighter. He took a tentative sip. Ugh. He made a gagging face at Lieutenant Dan Willis, who smirked back at him.
“Sorry, Chief. Parker made the coffee.”
He just knew that Dan was laughing at him, which was cruel. He lifted his mug in Dan’s direction. “This is not coffee. I think it might be watered-down diesel fuel.”
Parker sauntered in. “Anything to get your engine running.”
“Oh, man,” Paul groaned. “Bad coffee and terrible jokes. What did I do to deserve this?”
Both officers chuckled.
A few minutes later, Dan was all business. “Sir? I think you need to see this.”
Paul’s stomach tightened. It was either really good news or really bad. Dan moved over so he could get a look at the information on his monitor. Paul whistled quietly. Gazing back at them from the computer screen was the image of a young man in a US Army uniform. Private William Sharps, EOD specialist. Dishonorable discharge.
There was a string of minor complaints. He had done a year in prison around two years ago. And he had been ordered by a judge to undergo counseling after assaulting a girlfriend, something he never completed.
Paul scanned the information. One comment stuck out. His commanding officer had said he was “a brilliant young man with a short fuse and a profound lack of empathy. He seems to enjoy other people’s pain.”
Not a good thing to find in a soldier. And definitely not a person you’d want chasing you. Yet that was the man who had it in for Irene. Why? Paul was still working on that one, although he believed that Carter’s death was the event that tipped Sharps over the edge.
“Lieutenant Willis,” he addressed Dan, “please see that this information is sent to all surrounding precincts. This man is dangerous, and is responsible for at least two attempted murders. Oh, and he is highly skilled at setting off explosives, so caution is advised.”
Dan nodded and stood. Paul knew his officers. Dan was the model of efficiency. Paul could trust that his orders would be carried out to the letter and that Dan would advise him of any responses or changes in quick order.
His next plan of action was to track down Mary Ann’s family. After a half hour, he was more than frustrated. Lapp was an extremely popular name in that
particular part of the country.
He began to check with the local police in the area to find out if there were any fires involving Amish families where a young child with Down syndrome was supposedly killed. That turned out to be quite a project. There were three departments in cities within the county and five police departments from counties near enough to have been involved.
He spent the better part of the morning and his entire lunch hour on the phone chasing down leads. He came away with nothing. His frustration grew. Irene needed him to solve this fast. Her very life depended upon it. What a time for Jace and Miles to be out of the area at a trial. He could have really used them about now.
Finally, his diligence paid off. There had been four suspicious fires in the past two weeks throughout the region. Three of them involved Amish in some way. As to casualties, that was a little confusion. Two or more of them seemed to have resulted in at least one death. But that was all gossip. There were no coroner reports, only local talk. At least two of them seemed to be connected to the name Lapp, but even that was unclear. Still, it was more than he’d had an hour ago.
Paul caught sight of the clock on the wall and exclaimed in dismay. It was two thirty. He’d promised Irene he’d arrive no later than three fifteen so she’d be at the meeting on time.
He worked feverishly for the next half hour before calling it a day. Parker would give him a ride out to Vera’s house so Parker could spell Jackson on watch duty.
No sooner had he arrived than Irene ran out the door, red laptop bag over her shoulder and two travel mugs in her hand. Two? He grinned as he stepped from Parker’s cruiser and was handed a travel mug.
“Dan called and said your coffee at the station was below par this morning,” she announced by way of greeting.
“Hey!” Parker mock-glowered at her. “I do my best.”
“Sorry.” She didn’t look apologetic. Smug, yes. Sorry, no. “At least you’re a good cop. That’s the important thing.”
Parker grinned.
“You ready to move out?” Silly question, Kennedy. She’s here with her bag, isn’t she?
“Yeah. The sooner this meeting is over, the better I’ll feel about it. I get the willies just thinking of going near that place.”
Who wouldn’t? Paul kept that thought to himself, not wanting to dampen her high spirits. She’d had enough put on her shoulders in the past few days to make anyone depressed. This upbeat Irene was the Irene he used to know.
He was pretty sure some of the cheer was forced. That was fine, too. She was brave and trying to keep a positive outlook. In a way, so was he.
He got into her SUV with her and buckled himself in. Glancing up, he caught the tender look in her eyes before she shifted her gaze. Did she have feelings for him, too? The brief surge of hope was drowned out by the knowledge that he couldn’t allow her to become attached to him.
Soon, very soon, he’d have to talk with her about his past. So she would know why this relationship developing between them could never go anywhere. He’d feel pretty ridiculous if she said that she was sorry, but the feelings were all on his side. Though maybe that would be preferable. The last thing he wanted was to break her heart.
His was another story. He had the feeling it was too late for him.
Pull yourself together, Kennedy. These maudlin thoughts will get you nowhere.
Pulling himself straighter in his seat, he spent the rest of the ride to the Zilchers’ house filling her in on what he’d learned that day. He’d been tempted to wait, but felt that would be unfair. She deserved to know. To his relief, she seemed to take it all in stride.
“So you were right. About Sharps being military, I mean,” she mused. “I didn’t think he’d pick up knowledge about explosives and that sort of thing off the street.”
She flipped on the blinker and turned onto the street where the Zilchers lived. All conversation died. Her posture grew taut. He could see her slim fingers clench on the wheel. She pulled into the driveway behind the other cars and put the car in Park, yet made no move to get out. Her gaze shifted toward the other house. The crime-scene tape was still up. The blinds were shut.
Paul leaned over and covered her hand with his. She jumped, then snorted.
“I can’t believe I’m being this stupid.”
“Hey.” He caught her chin in his hand and turned her face to his. The glimmer of tears in her eyes was almost his undoing. Man, he wished he had the right to take her in his arms and kiss those tears away. Or the ability to tell her with absolute certainty that everything would be fine. He did what he could. “Irene, you’re not being stupid. You have been so brave, so strong, these past few days, I am filled with admiration for you. And you are not alone here. I will be with you the entire time.”
She nodded, throwing her shoulders back and lifting her chin. “Right. Let’s do this.” She turned to open the door, then cut a shy glance back at him. “Thanks. It means a lot that you’re here.”
“Who else will be inside?”
She stopped and tilted her head to consider, then ticked off the participants on her fingers. Altogether, there would be four other people besides them and the family at the table. He relaxed. That many people made it highly unlikely that Sharps would attack here. He told her so.
“Still, you have your gun, right?”
He grinned at the question and patted the service weapon in its holster. “Right here.”
“Then we’re good. Let’s go.”
They exited the vehicle together.
The meeting went smoothly. The parents and other educators were initially intimidated by the presence of an armed police officer. But after a few minutes the meeting grew so intense that they forgot about him.
About forty minutes into the meeting, Paul excused himself to the kitchen when Dan called. He listened as his lieutenant explained that they had managed to find the link between Sharps and Carter. Turned out the two were second cousins and had grown up together. The best they could figure out was that one of them had recruited the other to the kidnapping ring.
Five minutes later, Paul could hear that the meeting was breaking up. He peered through the doorway and his blood ran cold. The seat where Irene had sat just a few minutes ago was empty.
“Gotta go.” He hung up as he dashed through the door. The startled team members stared at him, mouths wide-open. He didn’t care. “Where’s Irene?”
His voice came out hard. Almost angry.
“Our meeting is done. She needed to make a call to her office. I think she went out to the back porch.”
Paul tore through the house to the porch. No Irene. Her phone was lying on the wooden deck. He picked the phone up and then turned to scan in all directions. Something caught his attention. Was that movement in the abandoned house? It was too shadowy to know for sure—the blinds were still down—but his instinct was screaming at him that Irene was there. And not by herself.
He called Dan back. “Irene’s gone. I think the perp has taken her to the crime-scene house. I’m going in. No time to wait for backup, so get here quick.”
He disconnected before Dan could answer, already moving toward the house. He had no idea what he would find. But he knew that if he needed to put himself in front of a bullet to save Irene, he wouldn’t even hesitate.
TWELVE
Irene struggled to break free as she was dragged through the line of trees to the house that would haunt her forever. One of Black Beard’s meaty hands was across her mouth and nose. If she started to lag, he tightened his grip and she suddenly found herself unable to breathe. She had no choice but to keep up with the brutal man. Branches scraped her face, abusing her tender skin. A trickle dripped down her cheek. She was bleeding.
At the back door to his former house, he thrust her inside. She noted that the crime-scene tape had been cut. She saw
only darkness for a minute or two until her eyes began to adjust to the dim light.
Black Beard kicked the door behind him shut. The sound was so final that Irene cringed. The imagery of a casket lid being shut flashed into her mind. She waggled her head as much as the man’s hold would allow to dislodge the image. Such thoughts would only serve to keep her locked in fear, unable to act. She refused to be a victim.
A human-sized shadow moved toward them until Irene was finally able to see the woman who stood before her. It took her a moment, but then her eyes flared wide as recognition sent shock waves through her.
The woman she’d been so concerned about less than a week ago stood before her. Except now there was no sign of an Amish bonnet. Of Amish anything. This woman was completely Englisch, from her skinny jeans and oversize sweater to her edgy haircut, heavy eye makeup and double pierced ears. The young woman shook her head when she saw Irene. Her shoulders slumped. She was the picture of dejection.
“Oh, Eddie,” she whispered. “Why would you go and do something this stupid?”
Eddie? This monster holding her had an ordinary, pleasant name like “Eddie”?
“I don’t want to hear it, Brenda.” Irene shivered at the angry growl so close to her ears.
“Well, you’re gonna hear about it. We coulda got the money Billy stashed and ran. He said to meet him, not go grabbing anyone else.”
“Billy! I’m sick of listening to Billy. He’s gonna get us all caught the way he’s been chasing after this one. And for what? Because his cousin went and got himself killed. I say, we get rid of her, then there’s no one left who can identify us. And then he’ll have to start playing by the rules again. We can start over again in another state.”
Brenda crossed her arms and glared.
Irene held her breath. She was getting an awful lot of information here. Which meant that neither of them expected her to live to share it with the authorities. But, surely, Paul had to be looking for her.
