Southern Storm

by Terri Blackstock

  While they waited, Morgan tried to comfort Karen, but it was almost impossible.

  The sound of Karen’s anguish all night had been a terrible thing to hear, and Morgan had spent most of the night in earnest prayer. The pall continued to hang over the house as morning gave way to afternoon, and a quivering sense of anticipation preoccupied them all.

  In the parlor, the agents worked, taking calls and coordinating the search for Emory and Cade. Nervous and somber at the accusations being leveled against his best friend, Jonathan paced the kitchen with his hands in his pockets.

  “I have to get that money and do what they say,” Karen cried. “Lockers or not, I have to be there with that money!”

  Morgan leaned against the cabinet, trying to think. Gus and Felicia sat on either side of Karen, like allies against the world that conspired against her.

  “You all right, Miss Morgan?” Gus’s bass voice cut through her thoughts.

  “I’m fine, Gus.”

  “I been thinking,” he said. “What if I go with Miss Karen to make the drop? I could protect her from anybody out to hurt her.”

  Morgan met Jonathan’s impatient eyes. “Gus, there are no lockers,” Jonathan said, “and we don’t have the money. There’s not going to be a drop.”

  “All’s we need to do is stand there with a duffel bag, mon. Maybe they’ll come.”

  Karen slapped her hand on the table. “It’s something, Morgan. Something more than we’re doing now.” She looked at her watch. “They said four. It’s two-thirty now!”

  Felicia put her plump arm around Karen’s shoulders. “Miss Morgan, don’t you think you could raise the money with some phone calls to church members? I know fifty thousand is a lot, but for the life of a baby . . .”

  Morgan had a crick in her neck, and her shoulder muscles felt as if they’d been tied in knots. The “maybes” and “ifs” were starting to make her crazy. “Thanks, Felicia. I’m sure the FBI is considering everything.”

  “I don’t know why you think that,” Gus said in a low voice.

  “They haven’t done nothing for Cade, mon. And now they think he did it.”

  Morgan knew Gus was right.

  Tavist came to the kitchen, leaned in. “Miss Miller, can you come in here, please?”

  Karen sprang up and grabbed Morgan and Jonathan’s hands. “Come with me.”

  They both followed her into the parlor, where four agents sat around a table. Tavist lowered his voice so the others wouldn’t hear. “Miss Miller, we’ve decided to stake out the Trailways Station in case the kidnappers show up.”

  “Yes!” Karen turned and started out of the room. “I’ll go get ready!”

  “Wait.” Tavist’s voice turned her back. “You’re not going.”

  “But they told me to come!” she shouted. “They said for me to bring the money!”

  “But you can’t make the drop without the lockers. We’re just going to have agents watching for them.”

  “Watching for who? You don’t even know what they look like!”

  “We know what Matthew Cade looks like, and the woman who took the baby was a white woman of about five-feet-two.”

  Jonathan snapped. “If you’re looking for Cade, Tavist, then you’re going to miss the real kidnapper! Cade is not involved!”

  “Whoever is involved, our agents are trained. They know what to look for.”

  “You can’t do this!” Karen cried. “I have to be there if they bring my baby.”

  “Miss Miller, they’re not going to wheel a stroller in there and swap with you. Trust us. We have experience with this kind of thing.”

  Karen wouldn’t hear any of it. “But if they don’t see me, they might kill my baby. We have to do what they say.”

  Tavist stepped toward her. “Miss Miller, I know this is hard for you. But what we’re doing is in the best interest of the baby. If you hope to get him back, you need to let us call the shots.”

  As Karen wilted against Morgan, Caleb toddled in, and Sadie ran in behind him. “Sorry, Morgan. I’m trying to keep him out of the way.”

  Morgan had forgotten the girl was home. Early this morning, when Sadie would have gone to school, she’d convinced Morgan to let her stay home to help with Caleb while the decisions were being made. Morgan had been so distracted she’d agreed.

  Letting Karen go, Morgan picked Caleb up and kissed him. “It’s okay, Sadie. We need a distraction.”

  Sadie stood in the doorway and looked at Karen as if the sight of her tears hurt her as well.

  “They’re risking Emory,” Karen said. “By not doing it the way they said, they’re risking his life.”

  “They’re trying to save it,” Morgan said quietly.

  “He’ll be all right, Karen,” Sadie whispered. “God took care of Caleb. He’ll take care of Emory.”

  “Babies are hurt and killed all the time, Sadie,” Karen snapped. “It’s a horrible world. Their daddies take them to terrible places, where people hurt them. They’re left in hot cars. They’re neglected and left to cry for hours and hours and hours. If they survive being babies, they’re hurt when they’re older.”

  Morgan shot Sadie a stricken look, then touched Karen’s hand. “Karen, I know things are bad right now. But you can’t give up hope. And when things are out of your control, you have to realize that there’s ultimately only one person who is in control. And that’s God.”

  “Then where was he when Emory was taken?” Her voice broke off and she covered her mouth and wailed. “I’ve prayed and prayed and prayed. You said prayer works, and I believed you.”

  Sadie watched her now, waiting for her answer, as if she too needed to hear why it seemed God had not acted.

  “Prayer does work. God answers, Karen. You’ll see. He could be protecting that baby from harm while he’s with strangers. He could be working it out so that the police find the kidnappers. He could be doing a number of things that we can’t see.”

  Karen looked at her skeptically. So did Sadie.

  “And even if God doesn’t save Emory, we still have to trust him, because he’s still good.”

  Sadie looked as disappointed in her answer as Karen did. “I think I’ll go for a walk, if it’s all right.”

  Morgan nodded. “I don’t blame you for wanting to get out of here. Go ahead.”

  Sadie looked close to tears as she went to the door. Morgan wanted to run after her and make sure she was all right.

  But the crisis had not yet passed. She would see about Sadie a little bit later.

  CHAPTER 57

  Tension hung in the air at Hanover House, and Sadie was glad to escape it. She crossed the street to the beach and walked the shoreline. The ocean was gentle today, and the sky a cloudless, solid blue. One would never know that people had vanished, babies had been stolen, and good people might really be evil.

  She didn’t know what to think about Cade now. Did he have it in him to do these kinds of things?

  He was the first one she’d met on the island, the one who had taken her to the doctor and paid, himself, to have her arm set. He was the one who’d tried to get Caleb out of Jack Dent’s home.

  If you couldn’t trust him, who could you trust?

  Morgan and Jonathan were certain he was victim and not perpetrator, but Sadie wasn’t so sure.

  She needed to talk to someone who wasn’t involved in these tragedies, but every call in or out of the home was being recorded. There was a pay phone on the South Beach Pier. She thought of calling Trevor—her only real friend—just to talk.

  What could a simple phone call hurt?

  She checked her watch as she reached the phone. By now, he was probably home from school. Quickly, she thumbed through the phone book for his number.

  Inserting her coins, she dialed. Her heart pounded as she waited for him to answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Trevor? This is Sadie.”

  “Sadie!” The pleasure in his voice was unmistakable. “Where were you today?”


  “Some stuff was going on at Hanover House. Listen, I’m pretty freaked out about Cade and the kidnapping and everything. You want to meet somewhere to talk?”

  “Sure,” he said. “Tell me where.”

  “Well, I’m at the South Beach Pier right now. How soon can you come?”

  “Give me ten minutes.”

  Sadie hung up, gratified that he would come so quickly. She walked out to the pier, took her shoes off, and sat on the side.

  Evil was everywhere, she supposed. Though she hated to admit it, even Hanover House wasn’t immune.

  She leaned her forehead against the pier’s railing and looked out at the water billowing beneath her. Another storm was headed this way, and the waves rushed the shore with mad urgency, mirroring the restlessness in her soul.

  “Wow, you look really bummed.”

  She looked up. Trevor stood there in a pair of shorts and a Miller Lite T-shirt. “Hey. You made it fast.”

  He sat down next to her. “I was anxious to see you.”

  She couldn’t be sucked in by his charm. Not this time. “This is not a date,” she said. “I’m not lying to anyone about anything. I just needed someone to talk to.”

  “I’m your man. What’s wrong?”

  She crossed her arms on the rail and rested her chin on them. “I’m just . . . confused. Wondering if all the things Morgan and Jonathan say are right.”

  “They’re not,” he said. “I can tell you that right now.”

  Sadie knew better than to dismiss them that easily. She thought of Morgan’s deep faith in the power of prayer and knew she couldn’t talk this out with Trevor. He wouldn’t be objective. So she sidestepped it.

  “I was just thinking a lot about why some babies are born into perfect, loving homes and others are born into dangerous, evil homes with mean parents. Or why good people who would make great parents sometimes can’t have kids.”

  She knew the argument Jonathan would make about a fallen world giving birth to evil. About Satan being the “prince of this world” and doing as much harm as he could to the most innocent.

  “If you ask me,” Trevor said, “it all boils down to luck.”

  Sadie shook her head. “You can’t really believe that.”

  “Sure I do,” Trevor said. “And the truth is, some people make their own luck. Like my dad, for instance. He’s a self-made man. He doesn’t wait for things to happen. He goes out and makes them happen.”

  Morgan’s warnings about Trevor’s family chimed through her mind. “But how do other people fit into that? I mean, if it’s all luck, and you make your own luck, but you can’t control their behavior. . . .”

  “Oh, we can control their behavior, all right.” He started to laugh.

  Sadie looked at him. Was he talking about beating people up when they paid their loans late? “How?” she asked. “How do you control it?”

  “You set examples. You give consequences.”

  “What kind of consequences?”

  He grinned and regarded her for a moment. “What are you asking?”

  She decided that she had to know the truth. “Trevor, I heard that you work for your father, beating up people who are late with their loans. Is that true?”

  He grinned. “Now, do I look like a mean guy?”

  “No,” she said. “But you are big. You could do that if you wanted.”

  “Hey, my job in my father’s business is to make sure people keep their end of the bargains they make. That’s all. Sometimes a little intimidation is required.”

  She tried to think it through. Intimidation was not the same as violence, was it? And it was a business thing, not meanness. It didn’t mean he was not a decent person.

  He nuzzled her neck, trying to illicit a smile. “You have terrible ideas about me and my family, don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t. I haven’t believed all those rumors.”

  “You sure? Because it isn’t fair, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “Then I want you to do something for me. I want you to meet my folks.”

  Sadie stiffened. “I can’t.”

  “No, just hear me out. I want you to come with me to a wedding. You can meet my folks and find out they’re all right.”

  “A wedding?” she asked. “Who’s getting married?”

  “A cousin of mine,” he said. “And I hate weddings, but I have to go. It won’t be so painful if you’re there.”

  Sadie just looked at him. “I don’t know. A wedding’s a pretty public thing. If I went, Morgan and Jonathan would be sure to find out.”

  “So go ahead and tell them you’re going to a wedding. She lives in Savannah, so they won’t know her. Tell them you met her back when you worked for the paper. If they hear we were together, they’ll just think we ran into each other.”

  Sadie knew that Morgan and Jonathan would never want her there. And she had promised not to lie again.

  “Come on,” he said. “What could happen at a wedding?”

  “I’m not afraid to go to a wedding with you,” she said. “I just don’t want to lie again.”

  “You gotta admit, the Clearys are not thinking clearly right now. And you’re seventeen, Sadie. At some point you’ve got to start making decisions for yourself.”

  She sighed. “When is it?”

  “Saturday night.”

  She looked into the wind as it slapped across the water. It lifted her hair from her shoulders and sent it flying around her face. This storm might even be worse than the last one.

  His arms slid around her, and he nuzzled her neck again. “Come on, Sadie. Say yes.”

  It felt so good to have him hold her like that. Morgan and Jonathan were so wrong about him. “I guess I could go.”

  “All right!” he said. “You’ve made my day!”

  And she could tell he meant it.

  Later, as she walked back down the beach and across the street to Hanover House, she told herself that she wasn’t really doing anything wrong. She was just going to watch decent people unite themselves in marriage—and she would meet Trevor’s family.

  What could it hurt, after all?

  CHAPTER 58

  Cade had been drugged again. He didn’t know how, since he hadn’t drunk the water she’d brought him in days. She must have figured it out and hidden the drug in his food.

  Now each of his limbs seemed to weigh a ton, and he couldn’t tell how long he’d been out.

  Forcing himself, he came to a sitting position, carefully slid his swollen, mangled leg off the side of the bed. Pain racked through him.

  Taking his weight with the good leg, he managed to stand. Slowly, he made his way to the toilet and relieved himself.

  He went back to the bed, dropped back down. The sheets were clean for the first time in days. She must have come in while he slept and changed his bed. The sick-sweet smell of dried blood was thankfully gone. But his bandages had not been changed, and blood stained them.

  His head ached from the original gash that had begun to heal, and the drug’s fog blurred his vision and muddled his thoughts.

  He pulled himself back up to examine his wounds. His leg had swollen to twice its original size, and blood seeped through his bandage. His side felt raw and infected, and every breath sent pain ripping through him.

  He lay there for a while, staring at that vent over his bed. I’m still here, Lord. You haven’t forgotten me, have you?

  God’s silence screamed through his heart and settled like panic on his psyche. There had to be a way out. He was a cop, for Pete’s sake. How could he let this happen to him?

  After a while, he heard the scraping outside the door and knew that Ann Clark had come to check on him. He closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.

  He heard her come close to his bed, felt her checking his leg. As she prodded the wound, he forced himself not to react with the pain.

  He could grab her, he thought. If she checked the wound on his side, he could grab her wrist,
twist it behind her back, and find the gun she always kept in her pocket.

  He lay still as she unwound the bandage and then wrapped it again.

  Closer, he thought. Move closer.

  As if obeying him, she moved to his rib cage. Carefully, she lifted his wrist to move his arm.

  Cade clamped hers instead. She screamed as he lunged up, twisting her around. Balancing on his one good leg, he got her hand behind her back and groped for her gun.

  It was in her pocket, so he plunged his hand in and pulled it out.

  “We’re gonna do it different this time,” he said, breathing hard with the effort of holding her still. “You’re going to help me get up those stairs, and you and I are going to be so close that any bullet meant for me will have to take you with it.” He shoved the gun into her waist. “Now let’s go.”

  He leaned on her , using her body to keep from stepping on his shattered leg, but the effort still caused agony. He managed to get her to the door that led out into the basement.

  He stopped there a moment, looked toward the stairs. If someone else was in the house, he waited at the top of those stairs as he had before.

  “You shoot me,” he yelled, “and she goes too!”

  They had no sooner stepped through the door, when something hit him from the side. He hit the floor.

  Someone was on him, wrestling his hands back, grabbing his hair. “Want to try that again, pal?”

  It was a man’s voice, slightly familiar.

  Pain cracked though his forehead as the man rammed his head into the concrete, once, twice . . .

  Light faded into darkness, and Cade gave up hope.

  CHAPTER 59

  Someone had to get into that house. As Blair sat on the road behind Ann Clark’s property, near the hidden driveway, she decided it would have to be her. So she’d break the law. So she could do jail time for this. It was a small price to pay for saving Cade’s life.

  Besides, she didn’t intend to get caught.

  She had worn black for her mission, in hopes of merging into the shadows. As she got out of her car and stole up the driveway, it occurred to her that she should have had something on her head. Her blonde hair was too stark a contrast against the darkness.