by Joanna Wayne
Hadley stared at the floor for long seconds, her arms hugged tightly about her chest, before she finally looked up and met his gaze. “I’m not sure what I want, Adam. I’m not sure of anything right now.”
“It’s still your call.”
“Let’s discuss it over coffee.”
It wasn’t the warmest welcome he’d ever received, but he could work with it. There was no time to waste. Every second the girls were missing made it less likely they’d be found alive. Hadley wasn’t stupid. Deep down, she had to know that as well.
The clock was ticking. The cops had their way of doing things. Adam had his, honed through his years of active duty when he’d learned not to trust anyone except his fellow marines and to always have a plan of action.
And right now, he had no plan.
* * *
HADLEY WATCHED AS ADAM picked up a framed photo in the room the girls had shared last night.
“This has to be the twins,” he commented.
A knot formed in her throat as she nodded.
“Which is which?”
“The one on the right holding her doll by the hair is Lila.”
“I don’t see how you tell them apart.”
“Some people can’t, but it’s easy for me. There are lots of subtle differences. Lila’s hair is curlier and her cheeks are fuller. And she carries that wiry-headed doll everywhere she goes. Lacy has a scar just below her right ear where she fell on a rock while chasing a squirrel when she was first learning to walk. She’s the daring one. And her eyes are the most remarkable shade of blue-green I’ve ever seen.”
“Like yours. Both girls definitely take after you.”
“That’s what everyone says.”
And yet she saw their father whenever she looked at them. In any other situation she would have never let Adam back into her life. But the thought of being in this house alone when the detective left was unbearable.
Even with Adam beside her, just being in this room was difficult. Her insides were in such upheaval, she could barely function. Adam, on the other hand, seemed totally focused. As soon as she’d started the coffee, he’d asked to see this room.
He’d examined the window from top to bottom first and then stared at each bed as if he thought it would cough up images of what had occurred here last night.
He returned the picture to the shelf and stooped to get a closer look at a stain on the carpet.
“Was this here before?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Why?”
“I noticed a similar one on the hall carpet. Seems kind of odd since the rest of the carpet is spotless.”
“Mother is fastidious. She usually has the carpet cleaned professionally as soon as we leave. Not that she doesn’t love having us here, dirt and all.”
Adam continued to study the stain. “This doesn’t look like dirt.”
“What do you think it is?”
“Could be oil that someone smeared in an attempt for a fast cleanup.”
“That looks too dark to be oil and I know no one’s been cooking in here.”
“Haven’t been working on cars, either, I’d guess, though this looks like the kind of stain you’d find on a garage floor.”
“Do you think the stain was left by the abductor?”
“Could be.”
“Hard to believe he was brazen enough to stick around long enough to clean up a stain from his shoes.”
“Only if he thought it would incriminate him,” Adam agreed.
“More likely the cops or CSI guys checking for fingerprints tracked it in,” Hadley said.
“Hopefully they found lots of usable prints,” Adam said, changing the subject. “If they did, they could have the kidnapper in custody and the girls safely in hand before the sun goes down.”
Hadley didn’t know if Adam actually believed that or was only trying to calm her. She believed it. She had to. It was all she had to hold on to.
“I’m sure the coffee is ready,” she said.
“Go ahead and get yours. I’ll join you in a few minutes. I’d like to look around outside first.”
Hadley led the way. As it turned out there was not one, but two more stains similar to the one in the bedroom. They didn’t look like fresh stains to Hadley, but as Adam pointed out, that could be the result of someone trying to hastily remove them and failing at the task. She’d talk to Detective Lane and ask if he’d tested the stains.
The kitchen door opened onto a covered deck. When they reached it, Hadley turned the dead bolt and then the key.
Adam took a second look at the dead bolt. “Is there any way the girls could have unlocked the door themselves and wandered outside?”
“No, though they’re smart and adventurous enough to try it, especially Lacy. When they’re here we keep the doors locked and the keys out of reach. We keep this key in the salt keeper.” Hadley pointed to the antique container resting on an open display shelf near the door.
“Good plan. And the key was still there this morning when the girls went missing?”
“All the keys were out of reach and all the doors were still locked, as were all the windows. That’s why I was so certain they must be hiding in the house.”
“How many doors are there?”
“Three. One opens to the garage through the laundry room. The abductor definitely didn’t come in that way. I know I would have woken had the garage door opened.”
“Did the house show signs of being burglarized?”
“No. Nothing was out of place, not even in the room where the Lacy and Lila were sleeping. But I should have heard something.”
“Unless he drugged them while they were sleeping so that they wouldn’t wake up?” Adam said.
Her precious daughters drugged and stolen away from her. She shuddered as icy fingers tightened around her heart.
Adam put a hand on her shoulder.
His touch was no doubt meant to calm her, but it had the opposite effect. She blinked hard, trying to stop the tears that burned in the corners of her eyes from escaping and starting an avalanche she wouldn’t be able to stop.
She lingered near the back door as Adam stepped onto the spacious, covered deck. For the first time since he’d arrived, she took a good look at him.
He’d changed in three years. He was leaner than before with an edge of hardness to the angles and planes of his face that made him look every one of his thirty-one years. That took nothing away from his rugged good looks.
But he was far more than outward appearance. He was his own man, a hero who’d won medals for his courage under fire. He never walked away from danger or risk.
But he was only a man. She turned and walked away, before she started expecting too much.
She filled a mug with strong, black coffee and rummaged the drawer next to the sink for a pad and pencil. Dropping them onto the island, she slid onto a kitchen barstool.
After a few sips of coffee, she jotted down a title for her list.
People Who Had Keys to the House.
Hadley couldn’t make a definitive list before her mother recovered from the anesthetics and could think clearly, but she could have some prospects ready that might jar her mother’s memory.
The first name she wrote was Matilda Bastion. She had a key, but she would never do anything to hurt Lila or Lacy.
Neighbors made the number-two spot. Hadley couldn’t possibly list all of them by name, but her very social mother knew everyone on the block and might have given any one of them a key to check on the house when she was away.
The third spot fell to Ally Fritz. Ally was a decorator who’d overseen the kitchen remodeling last year and kept a close eye on the construction workers. There was a good chance she’d been given a key. She was trustworthy, but the key might have been left lying around her shop.
And who knew how many unnamed others Hadley might have never met? Her mother had frequent guests and often hired caterers for her social functions.
Someone with a
key who knew Hadley and the girls were spending the night last night. Someone who was in desperate need of money.
She had to believe the abduction was about collecting a ransom. Any other motive was too frightening to bear.
But why didn’t the kidnapper call?
A coughing noise startled her. She looked up, expecting Adam but seeing the detective instead.
“The wiretap is in place,” Lane said, “just as we talked about. If the kidnapper calls, I’ll get it simultaneously. Agree to anything, but demand to talk to both Lacy and Lila. Stay as calm as you can and keep him on the phone as long as you can. Once he breaks the connection, I’ll get in touch with you immediately.”
“Are both my cell phone and the house phone tapped?”
“Yes, but I took the liberty of having the house calls forwarded to your cell phone so that you won’t miss a call when you’re at the hospital.”
“Thanks. I was going to ask you about that.”
“I assume you’ll be leaving for the hospital soon.”
“Within the next fifteen minutes. I hate to leave here, yet I need to be there when Mother comes out of recovery. I can’t take a chance on someone else telling her about the kidnapping.”
“You do realize that I’ll have to question her as soon as the doctor agrees to it.”
“Can’t you just give me the questions you have and let me ask her? Talking to the police is only going to upset her more.”
“I’m sorry. Investigations don’t work that way.”
“They work however you say they work.”
“Is there a problem in here?” This time the voice was Adam’s.
“I don’t have one,” Lane said, his stare leveled at Hadley.
“I’ll do my best not to upset your mother, Ms. O’Sullivan, but right now she’s our best hope for identifying the kidnapper quickly.”
“I understand.”
Only she didn’t. She didn’t understand any of this. She should be at the hospital with her mother. Lacy and Lila should be here with Matilda, playing with their toys or watching one of their favorite animated movies.
This nightmare should not be happening.
Lane let himself out and Adam helped himself to coffee. “Did Lane say something to upset you?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Your eyes were shooting daggers at him when I interrupted your conversation.”
“I don’t like his attitude at times. I want to believe he’s doing everything he can to find Lacy and Lila, but he talks of rules and procedures. My girls’ lives are at stake and he can’t give an inch.”
Adam walked over and sidled onto the stool next to hers. “I’m sure he’s aware of what you’re going through. I’ll wager the whole department is using every weapon in their arsenal to find Lacy and Lila. Missing kids are always top priority for the police.”
“So you think I’m being unreasonable?”
“Actually, I think you’re doing an amazing job of handling this.”
“Well, you’re wrong. I’m crazy inside. I want to scream and kick and beat my fists against the wall.”
“Go ahead if it helps. You can even use me for a punching bag.”
“Careful what you offer.”
“I always am.”
And she’d never been careful enough. She downed the last few sips of her coffee and then slid the mug away. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I’m going to the hospital.”
“Do you want company?”
She wanted to shout no. She didn’t want to need him. The refusal wouldn’t come.
“It’s up to you,” she said.
“Then I’d like to tag along, but I have one question first.”
“I’m sick of being interrogated. All I’ve done all morning is answer the same questions over and over as if they expect my answers to change.”
“I need to ask anyway.”
“Then get it over with.”
“Where is the twins’ father?”
Chapter Three
The silence lasted so long that Adam thought Hadley might not answer at all. He saw no reason why she’d object. Under the circumstances, it was a legitimate concern and required only a simple, direct response.
Adam rephrased the question. “Is your husband on his way to Dallas?”
“No.” Hadley picked up her mug, took it to the sink and held it under the spray. “He won’t be coming,” she said, without looking at Adam.
The answer stunned him. “Why not?”
“Does it matter?” She picked up a sponge and began to buff the impeccably clean and shining granite countertop. She worked strenuously, her fear and frustration fueling the task.
He’d pushed too far. She was vulnerable, too emotionally fragile to be pushed on a subject she clearly didn’t want to talk about.
He carried his cup to the sink. “Enough said. I was out of line in putting you on the spot.”
“You didn’t, but why go into something that’s not relevant when the situation is already overwhelming?”
“None of my business anyway. Let’s get out of here.”
“I’ll get my handbag.”
Adam couldn’t imagine any valid excuse for Hadley’s husband not getting here as fast as he could. Even if he and Hadley were having marital problems, no halfway decent father would ignore the plight of his missing daughters—unless...
Unless the guy was involved in the crime.
The detective had stressed that everyone was a suspect. Was there a chance he’d had the twins’ father in mind when he’d made that point? Could this abduction be connected to a bitter divorce and custody battle?
If it was, a lot of unexplained issues suddenly made sense. The man could easily have a key to his mother-in-law’s house. And the girls could have just gone back to sleep without a fuss if they woke up and found themselves in their daddy’s arms.
But there were two significant problems with that scenario. Hadley’s panic and terror were too real for her not to believe the girls were in real and imminent danger. If she feared her husband were behind that, she surely would have told the cops to go after him.
It was difficult to imagine that a man could ever hurt his own children, but it happened. All fathers were not created equal. No one knew that better than Adam. R.J. hadn’t been physically abusive. He simply hadn’t been around. The scars he’d inflicted were invisible.
Apparently R.J. wanted to play catch-up now. The old reprobate was probably worried about facing his maker and trying to atone for a few of his sins. He couldn’t even do that without manipulating the situation and attempting to screw up his children’s lives.
Hadley returned and Adam pulled his keys from his pocket. The saga of R.J. and his latest scheme would be continued later—when Lacy and Lila were safe.
* * *
MATILDA SAT IN the back of the small hospital chapel, her hands folded in her lap. She didn’t pray like her friends at the neighborhood church did. Some might not call what she did praying at all.
Mostly she just liked to sit in the quiet and envision God’s arms wrapped around her to comfort and guide her. Today her thoughts were so troubled that nothing could calm her spirit. It might go down as the worst day of her life and that was saying a lot.
She closed her eyes and focused her thoughts on Janice O’Sullivan. Janice believed they were friends. Matilda never saw it that way. The gulf between employer and employee was too wide, especially from her side.
It wasn’t simply that Janice was the boss. It was more about the money and the lifestyle. Janice had all she could ever want. Matilda struggled every week to make ends meet.
Not that Janice didn’t pay her a fair salary. It was well above minimum wage and she provided generous Christmas bonuses, as well. She’d even bought Matilda a new washer and dryer last year when hers went out.
Janice’s husband had died of a heart attack five years ago and left her an extremely profitable investment portfolio, a paid-for house worth over
a million dollars in a posh Dallas neighborhood and a sizable life insurance payout.
Matilda’s husband, Brent, had been shot and killed when he’d inadvertently walked into an armed robbery in process. He’d stopped at the convenience store after he’d left the night shift at a local plant. He had no insurance and no savings. At the time, Matilda had no employable skills and two young children under the age of eight.
Janice’s only daughter was a jewel, thoughtful of her and a model mother to those precious girls. Matilda’s daughter was only sixteen, but she was also pure joy. She was an honor student and on the school cheerleading squad.
Her eighteen-year-old son, Sam, was the rebel. He’d never gotten into any real trouble the way her brother, Quinton, had at that age, but he was resentful and eternally pushing Matilda’s rules. He was attending summer school now just so he could replace the fake graduation certificate they’d awarded him for a real one.
So, even though Matilda liked Janice and appreciated what she’d done for her and her family, they weren’t bosom buddies.
But they were close enough that Matilda really hoped the morning’s surgery would leave Janice cancer-free. Good news on that front would be a huge relief, but it would be overshadowed by the twins’ disappearance.
But the tragedy wouldn’t devastate Janice the way it might some. She had more spunk and grit than a prizefighter. Matilda envied her that.
She stood and slipped quietly out of the chapel. New anxiety struck the second she got off the fourth-floor elevator. Officer Grummet, the cop who’d given her the third degree earlier, stood in the hallway just past the nurses’ station.
She’d had enough of him and his accusatory tone. He hadn’t directly called her a suspect but his mannerisms and pointed questions had made it clear that he suspected she knew more than she was saying.
She’d always been a rotten liar.
Grummet started walking in her direction, but his gaze was focused on the shapely nurse who was standing at a patient’s room door a few feet in front of him.
