“Good. Now, let’s stop being sappy and start planning what you’re going to wear Sunday.”
“Sunday?”
“To church, dear. You’ve got to look your best just in case—”
“Mr. Right has somehow magically appeared in town? How about we discuss this another time, Edith? It’s late, and I’m tired.” And she needed to leave, walk away from everything she’d worked so hard for.
“You’re right. It is late, and we both need our beauty sleep. Call me tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay.” But she wouldn’t because she’d be hundreds of miles away, trying to find a new identity so that she could sink into obscurity again. She hung up the phone, her muscles leaden and tight as she grabbed her duffel and walked out of the room. She’d leave the satchel with the grade book and ungraded papers. Eventually, someone would come looking for her and find it.
The stairs creaked as she hurried down, the old floorboards groaning beneath her feet as she rushed into the kitchen and scrounged through the cupboards. She didn’t have much. Just a package of crackers, a couple of cans of soup and the cookies she’d shared with Eli a few hours ago. She grabbed one and took a bite as she shoved everything else into her duffel. It tasted like dust, and she nearly choked as she tried to swallow it down.
Sugar could cure a lot of ills, but it did nothing to tame the fear that beat a hard, harsh rhythm in Maggie’s chest. Her picture was on national news programs, and Derrick had always been a news fanatic. Wall Street news. Cable news. Network news. He’d watched it incessantly, and Maggie had often been jealous that he hadn’t spent that time with her.
She’d been such a fool, so confused about what real love was, what true caring felt like.
And now she was going to pay the price.
Again.
She frowned, hurrying back down the hall, silently saying goodbye to the house she’d scrimped and saved to purchase, the dream she’d built in her head.
She pulled open the front door, stepping out onto the porch, the cold wind bathing her hot cheeks and drying the tears that burned behind her eyes. Ice had accumulated on the front porch, and the yard and driveway sparkled with it. Tall pine trees bent beneath the howling wind, and ice fell from their heavy boughs, hitting the ground with a hushed shattering that was so beautiful, so achingly perfect that Maggie paused, wanting to take it all in, preserve the memory so that she would never forget what was possible if she put her mind and heart into it.
A sharp crack split the air as something exploded near Maggie’s feet. Wood flew up and out, digging into her shins, flying into her face. She screamed, falling backward.
Another crack. Another explosion.
Pain.
Blood. Dripping down her arm. Dripping onto the rotted wooden floorboards of the porch.
She screamed again, scrambling back as a figure appeared in the darkness beyond the porch. A hundred yards away. Coming fast.
Get up! Get. Up.
The world in slow motion as she turned, fell into the hallway, kicked the door shut. Hands slipping as she turned the lock. Pulled the bolt. Blood smeared on the door.
Go. Go, go, go.
She ran up the stairs, expecting the door to explode behind her. Expecting a bullet to slam into her back, bring her to her knees.
Her cell phone slipped out of her hands as she pulled it from her pocket, and she scooped it up again. She tried desperately to dial 911, her hand trembling too much. Fingers hitting the wrong buttons.
Please, God. Please!
A loud bang had her screaming again, lunging for the bedroom door, slamming it shut, turning the old-fashioned skeleton key as the 9-1-1 operator answered.
Another bang as Maggie shouted her address, shouted that an intruder was in her house.
And then silence, deep and ominous and filled with warning.
“Ma’am? Are you still there? Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” Maggie responded, backing away from the bedroom door, her heart thudding a hard, painful beat.
Was he in the house? Creeping up the stairs? Standing outside the door?
“Police are in route. Are you in a safe place?”
“No.”
“Can you get to one?”
“No.”
Was that the loose floorboard on the landing creaking? Was that a whisper of fabric, a sigh of breath?
“Do you have a weapon?”
“No,” she barely managed to whisper, as she glanced around the room, trying to find something she could use to defend herself.
“The police are almost there. Stay on the phone with me, okay? Okay?”
But Maggie couldn’t respond, didn’t dare speak or move or breathe. Someone was outside the door. Someone who tapped softly on the thick wood, wiggled the handle as the sound of sirens drifted into the room.
Maggie backed up, moving toward the window, dizzy with fear, sick with it. Waiting for help to come, for the door to explode. For Derrick to appear. Black eyes and hair and snarling lips. Coming to do exactly what he promised he would when Maggie had walked out of his life.
But she wasn’t the woman she’d been all those years ago. She’d changed. Grown stronger, more determined, and she wasn’t going to wait around for whoever was on the other side of the door to break in and finish what he’d started.
She yanked open the window, eyeing the ground as sirens screamed up her driveway. Voices shouted. A gunshot split the air.
And then there was silence filled with nothing but wind and ice and the terrible beat of Maggie’s heart.
FOUR
Kane hovered in the doorway of the hotel suite’s only bedroom, watching as Eli climbed into bed. He wanted to cross the threshold and tuck his son in as he had so many times when Eli was little, but the dark look Eli shot in his direction froze him in place.
Give him time.
It was what Kane’s mother and father had said. What his sister had said. What the experts had said. It wasn’t what Kane’s heart said. It said fix everything now. Swoop in and take control like he’d done when he’d worked as an attorney. But reconnecting with Eli was going to be a lot more difficult than bringing a case to trial had ever been.
At least he’d finally gotten the kid to bathe and get ready for bed. That had been a battle Kane hadn’t expected to fight with a child Eli’s age. Only seeing the panic in Eli’s eyes when sleep had been mentioned had kept Kane from insisting that his son go to bed at a reasonable time.
Now, at nearly one in the morning, Eli’s excitement and adrenaline seemed to have worn off, and his pale face and the dark circles beneath his eyes hinted at an exhaustion that went far beyond simple lack of sleep.
“Do you want a drink of water?” Kane asked, the question as lame and useless as he felt.
“No. Thank you.” Eli turned onto his side so that his back was to Kane, his red hair just showing over the blanket he’d pulled up around his shoulders.
That was Kane’s cue to walk away. He knew it but couldn’t quite get his feet to move.
“What time does Mom and Dad’s plane arrive tomorrow?” his sister Jenna asked, and Kane forced himself to turn away from his son and face her.
The look of sympathy on her face let him know just how pitiful he looked—a father who couldn’t even offer his son a kiss goodnight. “Ten.”
“Do they want me to pick them up at the airport?”
“No, they’re renting a car.” Kane moved across the room, grabbing the cup of coffee he’d left on a corner table. It was cold and bitter, but he downed it anyway, his throat parched from too many emotions and the strain of holding them in.
“Keep drinking coffee and you’ll never get to sleep.” Jenna rose from the couch, stretched to her full five-foot height. Short red hair spiked around a pale, pretty face. She looked exhausted.
“I’m too hyped up to sleep.”
“Maybe so, but we’ve been up since yesterday morning. It’s time to crash. Tomorrow is another day, after all, and I’m sure we
’ll have plenty that needs doing.” She ran a hand over her hair and smiled. Of Kane’s three sisters, Jenna was the only one still single and childless, and she’d been quick to volunteer to hop on a plane and fly to Spokane, Washington, with him. It had been Jenna who’d booked a hotel room. Jenna who’d thought to rent the SUV. Jenna who had been the calm in the storm of Kane’s emotions, but two years fighting leukemia had taken a lot out of her, and it showed in her hollow cheeks and dark-rimmed eyes.
He crossed the room and pulled her into a gentle hug. She’d always been athletic and strong, a gymnast who’d pushed her body to the limit and who’d attended college on a full athletic scholarship. Now she was frail, her body too thin and delicate. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She returned the hug and stepped back, looking up into his eyes.
“For not thinking about how difficult this trip would be on you.”
“On me? What about you? You’re the one who’s just found his son again.” She frowned, and Kane knew she would never admit that the cancer had robbed her of her strength, never admit that was the reason she was tired. She was strong, tough and independent, and the last thing she would ever accept was pity.
“True, but I’m still hopped up on adrenaline, and there’s no way I can sleep. You take the other double bed in the bedroom. I’ll take the pull-out in here.”
“I’m sure you want to be in the room with Eli,” she responded, crossing to the small refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of water.
True, but he wasn’t sure his son wanted him there.
He didn’t say that, just poured more coffee from a half-full pot and shook his head. “I’ll only be a few yards away from him, and you can get some sleep while I do some work. I’ve got a half-dozen clients I left hanging when I flew out of New York, and I need to let them know their cases are still being handled.”
“All right, but if you want to boot me out of bed later, just wake me up.” She smiled wanly, and for the first time since they’d gotten on the plane the previous day, Kane really looked at his sister. Her skin wasn’t just pale, it was parchment white, her freckles standing out in stark contrast. Her clothes hung off her narrow frame.
“Are you okay, Jen?”
“Besides being exhausted? Yes.”
“I mean really okay.”
“You mean is the cancer back. I went to the doctor two weeks ago for a three-month check, and my numbers all look great, so stop worrying.”
“Did the doctor say anything else besides that your numbers look good?”
“No, and even if he had, now wouldn’t be the time to discuss it. You have your son back, Kane. You’ve got what you’ve been dreaming of for years. That’s all you should be thinking about.”
“I have what I’ve been dreaming of, but that doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you. So, what, exactly, did the doctor say?”
“Nothing except come back in three months. Just like every checkup. Now, stop worrying.”
A sharp knock at the door stopped Kane from asking more questions. He frowned, crossing the room quickly and peering out the peephole. Up until now, the press had been respectful, waiting outside the hotel and asking questions when he emerged or calling to see if he’d be willing to give an interview, but he didn’t expect that to last forever. “Yes?”
“Mr. Dougherty, it’s Deputy Rick Lesnever, Spokane County Sheriff’s department.”
“Do you have ID?” Kane asked, opening the door and nodding as the deputy flashed his badge. “It’s a little late for a visit isn’t it, Deputy?”
“We’ve had an incident, and the sheriff wanted me to come ask you a few questions.” The deputy was young, maybe mid-twenties, and he looked nervous, his gaze jumping from Kane to Jenna and back again.
“Incident?” Kane asked, stepping aside and letting the man in.
“Maggie Tennyson said you were out at her place a little after nine tonight.”
“That’s right.”
“She was attacked a couple hours later.”
“Attacked by whom?” Kane asked, his mind racing back to the moment he’d met Maggie. She’d been nervous, edgy and scared, but he’d chalked that up to being approached by a stranger on a dark, deserted road. What he hadn’t been able to explain was her need to stay anonymous, her obvious concern that someone would know Kane and Eli had been to visit her.
He’d wondered what she was hiding, but he hadn’t pushed for answers.
He should have.
“We don’t know. We’re hoping that you might be able to help shed some light on that.”
“You don’t think my brother had something to do with it?!” Jenna exclaimed, her eyes flashing with irritation.
“Mr. Dougherty isn’t a suspect, but we’re hoping that he may have seen something—”
“What’s going on? Is Ms. Tennyson okay?” Eli peered out of the bedroom, his hair mussed. Barely four feet tall and probably less than fifty pounds, Eli looked younger than nine, but his eyes were old and filled with anxiety.
“She should be fine,” the deputy responded, smiling kindly at Eli. “We just wanted to ask your father a few questions.”
“But you said she was attacked. That means someone hurt her.” Eli stepped out of the room, his pajamas hanging loosely on his thin frame.
“Maybe you and the deputy should discuss this somewhere else,” Jenna suggested, shooting a look in Eli’s direction.
She was right, of course. Discussing what had happened to Eli’s favorite teacher while he was listening wasn’t a good idea, but leaving Eli seemed like an even worse one to Kane.
He knew it was irrational, knew that Eli would be fine with Jenna for however long it took to answer Deputy Lesnever’s questions, but knowing it in his head and believing it with his heart were two different things. “Why don’t you go back in the bedroom, Eli? I’ll come in after the deputy and I are done talking and let you know what’s going on.”
“She’s not okay. If she was okay, you wouldn’t make me go away while you talk.”
“Of course she’s okay. Deputy Lesnever wouldn’t lie, would you, Deputy?” Jenna said, moving close to Eli and putting an arm around his shoulders.
“No, I wouldn’t. She’s fine. The doctors are keeping her in the hospital overnight for observation, but she’ll probably be going home tomorrow.”
“She’s in the hospital? But you said she was all right!” Eli’s voice rose an octave, and he shrugged away from Jenna’s arm.
“She is, but—”
“I really think you should discuss this somewhere else,” Jenna said again, and this time Kane knew he had to listen. Eli had been through enough. He didn’t need to hear details about what had happened to Maggie.
“How about we step out in the hall?”
“I’d rather not stand in a public area. We can discuss things in my patrol car.”
Kane hesitated, then nodded. He couldn’t be near Eli 24/7 no matter how much he wanted to. Normalcy had to be established. Routine. If Kane hovered, he might do more damage to his already-damaged child.
“Will you go see Ms. Tennyson?” Eli asked.
“I don’t think—”
“Please, Daddy. I just want to know for sure that she’s all right.” Daddy?
The word brought Kane back five years to the morning of Eli’s disappearance. He’d kissed his son goodbye before heading to the office, smiling when his son shouted, “I love you, Daddy!” as Kane closed the apartment door and left him with the nanny.
He hadn’t heard the word again until now, and hearing it filled him with a bittersweet mixture of joy and sorrow.
“I can’t leave you here alone, Eli.”
“He won’t be alone, Kane. I’m here, and I promise this is where we’ll both stay. No going anywhere except to bed. Right, Eli?” Jenna offered, and Eli nodded his agreement. Kane hesitated, his thoughts going back to the old farmhouse and the woman who owned it. Maggie Tennyson had done what no one else had dared. She’d listened to Eli, d
ug for answer and found them. Now she was in the hospital, and Kane knew he couldn’t ignore the fact any more than he could ignore his son’s impassioned plea.
“Okay. I’ll go, but you have to mind your aunt while I’m gone. No wandering around outside. Okay?”
Eli nodded, his desire to communicate with Kane gone now that he’d achieved his goal.
Had he spent the past five years as silently as he’d spent the past day? Or had he formed a connection with his kidnapper, spent afternoons after school chatting and weekends hanging out and discussing plans for the new week?
Wondering how Eli had spent the past five years would torture Kane if he let it. He couldn’t let it. He stepped over and hugged Eli, his heart aching as Eli stiffened in his arms. “Goodnight, buddy. I love you.”
Eli didn’t respond, just turned and walked back into the bedroom.
Kane bit back a sigh, and met Jenna’s eyes. “I won’t be long.”
“Take your time. We’ll be fine while you’re gone.”
“Thanks. Get some sleep. Okay.” He dropped a kiss on Jenna’s cheek and followed the deputy out into the hall.
“Sorry to drag you away from your son like this, Mr. Dougherty.”
“Call me Kane, and don’t worry about it. I’m happy to help with the investigation any way I can, though I’m not sure there’s much I can tell you.”
“Whatever you remember from when you were out at the house will be just fine.”
They walked out into the icy storm, crossed the parking lot to the deputy’s cruiser and climbed in. If there were reporters hanging around, Kane didn’t see any, but, then, even the most diehard reporters were probably tucked away in their hotel rooms sleeping at this hour of the morning.
Kane waited impatiently as the deputy pulled out a notebook and tried two different pens before finally finding one that worked. “Okay, I’m set. Did you see anything or anyone while you were at Maggie’s place?”
Running Scared Page 4
