Aaron caught her by the forearms. She resisted for a brief moment then let him pull her against his chest. His heart thumped beneath her cheek as she saturated his shirt with her tears. He said nothing, just held her. With each sob, she mentally ordered herself to stop, to get control, but the thought of never seeing her child again set off more spasms of pain and grief. Finally, she drew in a deep breath and pulled away from the comfort of his embrace. He let her go, but led her into the den area. She noticed Clay and Lance had made themselves scarce. Aaron pressed a tissue into her hand and she dropped onto the couch.
“This probably isn’t the best time to ask, but maybe talking about something else will help.” He lowered himself beside her.
She eyed him warily. “Okay.”
“I’ve been thinking. You said something the other day that I’ve been meaning to ask you about and haven’t gotten around to it.”
Oh. That. She figured she knew what was coming.
“Will you tell me about the drug problem you mentioned?”
Yep, she was right. Oh, boy. She’d known he would address it at some point, but had hoped to avoid that conversation a bit longer. “Why do you want to know?”
He frowned. “Because if Brian is behind this—and it looks like he is—he could be working with someone. It already looks like Ginny’s involved. Three men were hired to try and kidnap Sophia. We need to make sure no one else is in this loop. So can you think of anyone who has a past with drugs and might have found his or her way into your present for some kind of revenge? Someone who would be willing to take money to get rid of you?”
She pressed her fingertips to her burning eyes. “It was such a long time ago. I don’t think this is related to that.”
“It might not be, but Clay needs to address every possibility. And if you used to hang out with—” He paused and grimaced.
“Junkies?”
“Well, yes, but I was trying to find a better way to say it.”
“There’s not a better way. We were rich kids, but we were still addicts.” She groaned and shook her head. “It was stupid. I was stupid. My dad went to prison when I was thirteen. Three years later he was home and wanting to make his marriage work. My mother would have none of it. She wanted him out of the house and he refused to go.”
“So why didn’t your mother leave?”
“She did eventually. But when everything started happening—when my father was finally released from prison and home—she had nowhere to go. She had no real friends. She was too ashamed to go to the church for help. But she finally had a friend say she could move in with her for a short time.”
“She left you with your father?”
Zoe sighed. “Yes. And I get it now. My mother was depressed, desperate and very, very angry.” She shrugged. “My dad finally consented to the divorce, but still refused to move out. The fighting was just—” she spread her hands and shuddered “—awful, to say the least. I was looking for an escape. I found that in painting. And then drugs. I knew I shouldn’t have, but one night, the fighting was just too much. My father was bitter about his prison time. My mother was packing her suitcase and screaming at the top of her lungs about how it was a shame he didn’t even have the decency to leave her and me in peace and go find a place of his own, he yelled back that he didn’t have a job or any money so how was he supposed to make that happen…” She took a deep breath and brushed away a stray tear. “I went over to my boyfriend’s house and he gave me what I’d been refusing for a while. I tried a little cocaine.” She shrugged. “And it was…amazing. I was able to forget. Just for a bit, but it was such a relief. I didn’t seem to have any ill effects from it so tried it again. And again. And soon it was all I thought about, all I craved. And before I realized what had happened, I was an addict.” She gave a derisive laugh. “I kept telling myself I could handle it, that it wasn’t any big deal and that I’d quit when things got better at home. But…”
“But you couldn’t quit.”
“No, I couldn’t. By the time life had settled down a bit, I was well and truly hooked.”
“How’d you get clean?”
“Rehab. My parents paid for me to go, but refused to let me come home after I was out.” She shrugged. “They’d moved on while I was away. Sold the house at this point and gone their separate ways. Neither of them wanted me back home. I can’t say I completely blame them. I was horrible. I stole from them. I was defiant, disrespectful, mean-spirited.” She gave a choked laugh. “That was the one thing they could agree on through the whole thing. I couldn’t come back home.”
“You were angry, lashing out at them while they were so focused on themselves.”
“Oh, very much so. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I wanted to hurt them. My father was a bigwig in the community, albeit a fallen one. I wanted him and all of his bigwig friends to know that he had a junkie for a daughter and that it was all his fault.”
“You didn’t blame your mother?”
“Not so much. She was part of the issue, but she was just weak. She couldn’t deal with my father’s theft, the trial, the conviction, the jail time. She just kind of checked out. But my father, he was a different story. He was livid to say the least.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me I was no longer his child.” She rubbed her eyes again and he took her hand. The fact that he hadn’t run from her said a lot for his character. It encouraged her to finish the story. “So I went to my youth pastor at the church we attended sporadically. He managed to get me into a program sponsored by the church. And while I knew I needed help, I wasn’t sure I could kick the habit. But the program was a good one with good people and excellent counselors.” She shrugged. “I also got into a Bible study with a woman who seemed very taken with me. She really encouraged me, supported me…loved me.” She took a deep breath. “And prayed for me. I eventually got out, went to college and left the drugs in the past. But it wasn’t easy.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t. So that’s where you were when you dropped off the radar for a year?”
She frowned. “Maybe. Why?”
“Clay did some checking up on you and said he couldn’t find anything on you for about a year. Amber went to her sources and came back and said she knew where you’d been but it wasn’t any of our business and if you wanted us to know, you’d tell us.”
“Oh.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about the fact that Clay and Amber both had investigated her background, but guessed she understood why. She gave a slow nod then a small shrug. “But that’s why I don’t think it’s anyone from my past. The old boyfriend who provided the drugs is also clean and is living and working in Haiti with some charitable organization.”
“I’ll get Lance to check on him anyway.”
She nodded and stood. “His name’s Matthew Holder. I’m going to my room. I need some time alone. Please come get me if you hear anything.”
“Zoe—”
She held up a hand. “I just need some time, Aaron.”
“Okay.”
She could tell he didn’t want her to leave, but she’d said enough and now she just wanted to be alone. To try and find her way out of the yawning black hole of pain and fear for her child. To process that Brian Cartee had been the one behind the attack on Joy and possibly had Sophia.
She shut the bedroom door behind her and sank onto the bed. Sophia’s favorite stuffed animal had gotten caught between the pillow and the headboard. Zoe gripped it and clutched it to her chest. “Please, God, take care of my baby.” She shed more tears into the soft fur and continued to pray.
*
Aaron felt helpless. He was helpless. And he hated the feeling. “We’ve got to find her, Lance. What are we missing? Zoe seems so sure it’s not someone from her past.”
Lance looked at his phone. “Well, Brian Cartee’s dropped off the grid. We can’t track him through his phone because he’s not using it.”
“Probably has a burner to communicate with whoever is
behind this.”
“Why do you think he’s not the leader in this whole thing?” Lance asked.
“I don’t really know. Call it just a gut feeling.”
“Sometimes that’s the best thing to go by.”
“Yeah.”
Lance glanced toward the back of the house. “Is she all right?”
Aaron blew out a sigh. “No, not really, but she will be. Eventually.”
Clay stepped into the room, his face drawn, brows almost meeting at the bridge of his nose.
Aaron froze. “What is it? What else is wrong?”
“I just spoke to Amber.”
“Amber?” Aaron raised a brow. “What’s up with her?”
“Apparently she’s got some pretty amazing contacts who owe her a ton of favors. Anyway, she just called to say that she did background checks on all of Zoe’s family members. One person came back red-flagged.”
“Wait a minute. You did background checks. Nothing showed up.”
“Yes, I did one on Nina and Gregory when it looked like they had something to do with everything going on. The one person I didn’t do was Alexander Collier.”
“Zoe’s father-in-law?”
“Yeah.” Clay glanced at his phone again and shook his head.
“What showed up in Amber’s search?”
“Collier’s in debt up to his eyeballs, and his home is getting ready to be foreclosed on. He’s been hanging on by his fingernails, but she said in about two more months, he’s done.”
“But it makes no sense for him to go after Sophia and Zoe because she doesn’t have the money to bail him out.”
“Obviously he knows something we don’t,” Clay said.
“We have to tell her.”
“Yeah.”
“But how?”
*
The phone in her pocket buzzed, waking her from a restless doze. She blinked and rubbed her eyes then grabbed her phone praying the person on the other end had some news about Sophia. She glanced at the screen and winced. Her father-in-law. What was she going to tell him? That she’d failed? That she’d allowed his granddaughter to be taken? With another choked sob, she answered the call. “Hello?”
“I want you to listen to me very carefully.”
Something in his tone made her sit up straight. “All right. What is it?”
“I want you to get out of the house without anyone seeing you.”
She stilled. “What?”
“I know where Sophia is.”
“What? Where? Is she okay? She has diabetes, Alexander, you know that. She needs her medicine. I need to get to her.”
“She’s safe and will stay that way for now as long as you follow my instructions.”
Realization crashed over Zoe. “You,” she whispered.
“Yes. Me.”
Her whole body trembled. Her father-in-law had tried to kidnap his own grandchild and he’d hired men to kill Zoe. “Why?”
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters!”
“Shh. You don’t want anyone to overhear you. Now look out of your window.”
Zoe stood, her legs shaking and threatening to give way, but she locked her muscles and strode to the window. “Where’s Ginny? Did you kill her?” She glanced out and found Alexander’s tall form. He stood on the other side of the property fence, phone pressed to his ear, baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. No one would think anything about him being there. He looked like a neighbor hanging out in his backyard having a phone conversation with a friend. “I see you,” she said.
“Good.” He turned slightly and glanced in her direction. “And I see you. Ginny isn’t important right now. What’s important is that you follow my directions exactly.”
“I will. Tell me.”
“Don’t hang up until I tell you that you can. Get your keys and get out of the house without anyone noticing, walk down the street and get into the white Cadillac parked three doors down. I’ll be waiting.”
Her keys? Her purse was on the table next to the front door. “What if I can’t?” she whispered.
“You’ll find a way. Now come on. The longer you take the shorter Sophia’s life span gets.”
Zoe flinched. “Would you really hurt your own granddaughter?”
He scoffed. “You’ve never known me at all, have you?”
“Apparently not.”
“Understand this, Zoe.” His deadly tone had her full attention. “I will do whatever it takes to accomplish my goals and if that means Sophia dies, then so be it.”
Zoe’s breath left her. She turned from the window, hesitating as she considered her options. Then realized she had no options. At least for now. She looked at the pen on the small desk in the corner, picked it up and searched frantically for a piece of paper.
“What are you doing Zoe? What’s taking so long?”
“I’m trying to figure out how to get out of the house without anyone seeing me. It might take me a minute.”
She scanned the desk again and looked back at the end table. If she crossed in front of the window, he would see her—and know she wasn’t out of the room yet. She settled the pen against the wood of the desk and pressed. And the ink wouldn’t flow. Stifling a sob of frustration, she pressed harder and gouged Alexander has Sophia. White Cad—
“Zoe…”
She didn’t dare stay a moment longer. She dropped the pen, took a deep breath and left the bedroom and entered the hall. She could hear Alexander’s breaths in her ear. He was nervous about this. And well he should be.
“Zoe?” The low warning in his voice made her shiver.
“I’m coming,” she whispered.
She heard voices from the kitchen. Somehow she had to slip out the front door without them hearing or seeing. How? She drew closer and paused just outside the door as though planning to eavesdrop.
“…got Sophia,” Clay said.
“Bottom line,” Aaron said, “is that he wants Sophia alive and Zoe dead. Somehow it all comes back to money.”
“So how are we going to break this to Zoe?” Aaron said.
She peered around the corner. Clay had his back to her, but Aaron was leaning against the counter with his arms crossed against his chest.
Zoe took a deep breath and waited, heart pounding. If one of them decided to leave the kitchen, he’d see her. She risked another glance.
Aaron dropped his hands and turned to get his glass from the counter. No time to hesitate. She slipped past the opening and into the foyer, grabbed her purse from the small table near the door and tucked it under her arm.
“Where are you, Zoe?” She could hear the anger in Alexander’s voice, but couldn’t take a chance on responding. Not yet. She twisted the knob of the front door and pulled it open wide enough to slip through then shut it slowly, careful to not make any noise.
She turned and took a deep breath. “I’m outside.”
“Very good.” The sudden confidence in his voice made her want to vomit. Was she wrong? Should she have signaled to Aaron or Lance somehow? No, she couldn’t risk Alexander finding out and hurting Sophia. She remembered his tone when he said he would do anything to accomplish his goals. She had no doubt he’d hurt Sophia.
She looked up and down the street and spotted Yvonne Mayfield sweeping the front porch of the bed-and-breakfast. Zoe turned her gaze away, praying the woman would spot her, but doing nothing that would cause Alexander to suspect she was trying to get the woman’s attention. Yvonne never looked up. Zoe bit the inside of her cheek. “Keep walking,” Alexander said. “Come down the steps and turn left. Walk to the car and get in. Now.”
Zoe did as ordered.
“Zoe? Is that you, hon?”
Zoe nearly stumbled, but didn’t look back as she continued toward the white Cadillac. So Yvonne had seen her. If Alexander had the windows up, maybe he wouldn’t realize the woman had called out to her. She got to the car and opened the passenger door. Her gaze went to the backseat but of course Sophia wasn’t
there. She stared at her father-in-law. “Where is she?”
“She’s safe.”
“How do I know that?”
He held up his cell phone and she stared at the picture on the screen. Sophia was sitting at a kitchen table drinking a glass of milk. She knew that kitchen. Betrayal stabbed sharp and deep. “She’s with Nina? Nina’s behind this, too?”
“Get in and give me your cell phone.”
Zoe resisted throwing a glance back toward her home and slid into the passenger seat. He snatched her phone from her fingers and powered it down. Her hands trembled and she clasped them together between her knees. Her child was safe for the moment, now it was up to her to figure out how to stay alive.
He pulled a roll of duct tape from beneath the seat and she cringed. “Alexander, please…”
His diamond-hard gaze cut into her. “Give me your hands.”
She couldn’t do it. “I’m not going to fight you,” she said softly. “You have my child.” She held his eyes, keeping hers steady. “As long as you have control of her, you have control of me.”
He lifted a gun and pointed it at her head. “Give me your hands.”
Her breath caught. Death stared her in the eye. She lifted her hands. He quickly taped them together, then shoved her back against the passenger door. Zoe felt the comforting weight of the small gun against her ankle. Unfortunately she had no way to get to it. “Why do you want me dead? Why send those men to kill me and kidnap Sophia?”
“I need money, Zoe. A lot of money.”
She stared at him and he pulled away from the curb. Fear clawed at her but she controlled it. She had to. Sophia was counting on her. “But I don’t have a lot of money, Alexander. You know that as well as I do. You were there for the reading of the will. All I have is the horse and a little bit of life insurance money from Trevor—and I’ll sign the horse over to you today. You can sell him for a quarter of a million.”
“Two hundred fifty thousand is simply a drop in the bucket. And you’re worth more than you think you are. Trevor took out a two-million-dollar life insurance policy on you a year before he died.”
Protecting Her Daughter (Wrangler's Corner) Page 14
