by Joanna Wayne
“You’ll have to live with the whiskers until I get my hands on a razor, but if it’s okay with you, I’ll just throw what I’m wearing into the washing machine, dry it and wear it again,” Adam said. “That won’t take long and I’ll smell a lot better.”
“No problem. The downstairs laundry room is just past the walk-through pantry.”
Hadley pointed in the right direction. She could have offered him her razor, but for some weird reason she liked the edgy look of his whiskered chin. It fit better with her ragged appearance.
He grabbed the toast from the toaster and set one on a saucer. “Munch on that with your coffee,” he said. He took the other with him as he left.
Hadley stood and walked to the kitchen window. Her gaze fastened on the gingerbread-style playhouse her mother had gotten her handyman to build for the girls. They’d clapped their hands and started yelling when they saw it for the first time.
Lila had smelled the miniature pot of petunias and then peeked through the curtained windows, her eyes wide with wonder. Impetuous Lacy had opened the bright pink door and rushed inside.
Furnished with a child-size table and chairs, non-working refrigerator and range and a shelf full of plastic dishes and cooking paraphernalia, it was every little girl’s dream.
“You’ll play in it again,” she whispered to no one. “You’re coming home.”
She had to hang on to that hope or she’d never make it through the day. Already her body felt as if it had been used for a punching bag. The fear for Lacy and Lila was eating away at her like acid, corroding her nerves and brain and sucking her energy.
She was still staring out the window minutes later when Adam reappeared wearing one of her mother’s robes, his dirty clothes in hand. Even in pink silk, he looked virile, a man’s man. Tough but not arrogant or chauvinistic. That had been one of the first qualities that had attracted her to him.
“Chuck got hold of Fred and explained the situation to him. He said to count him in.”
“Is he in Texas?”
“He’s in D.C. now, but he’ll catch the first available flight to Dallas. He said he’ll call when he gets to town. He said to assure you that he never takes unnecessary risks with lives, but he also has a couple of requirements before he’ll agree to get involved.”
“Which are?”
“He expects complete honesty from you about every detail. He wants no surprises about the facts.”
“What else?”
“He needs you to trust him completely. Second-guessing him and veering from the plan will jeopardize the girls’ safety.”
Complete trust would mean everything was out of her hands. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m not sure I can promise that.”
“Then trust in me, Hadley. If I think Fred is making a mistake, I’ll step in and either take over or find someone who can. Someone who believes in you fully and doesn’t have to play by the rules.”
Trust Adam. She had once. He’d betrayed her. But this was different. This was about his abilities as a decision-maker and his hero qualities. They had never been in question.
“Okay, Adam. Tell Fred the girls are in his hands.” Now, if the kidnapper would just call back and give them a place and a time and five million dollars would fall like manna from heaven.
A lesser miracle would do just fine, too. As long as it brought Lacy and Lila home.
In the meantime, she’d call Detective Lane for an update. It had been almost twenty-four hours since she’d discovered their empty beds.
* * *
MATILDA’S SANDALS CLICKED against the concrete steps of the church. She’d slipped out of the Thursday morning mass early, not wanting to leave with the others and face the questions of friends and acquaintances. They’d all want to know about little Lacy and Lila and she was too upset to talk about the kidnapping.
She was frightened for herself as well as the girls. Keys to Janice O’Sullivan’s house had gone missing from her key ring sometime since Monday morning. That was the last time she remembered using a key to Janice’s house. When Janice was home, Matilda always rang the bell and Janice would let her in.
She hadn’t realized they were missing until the morning the girls had gone missing. If they turned up in the hands of the kidnapper, she could be in real trouble. Officer Grummet had made it clear from his questioning that he already thought she might be involved in the crime.
And now Janice had left a message asking about Quinton. Matilda had no choice but to tell her the truth. That would cost Matilda her job. That was no one’s fault but her own. Lying always led to more lies. The end result was never good.
Matilda should have never let Quinton back into her life. He’d talked a great story of redemption when he’d called last week and begged her to see him. He’d convinced her he’d finally found religion and turned his life around.
She probably hadn’t been that hard to convince. She’d prayed for it for so long. He was her only brother. She loved him. And she owed him. He’d saved her life more than once when their daddy had staggered home drunk and had come at her.
But if Quinton was behind this abduction, if he hurt those precious little girls, she’d turn him in to the cops herself without blinking an eye.
Quinton hadn’t stayed long when he’d dropped by Monday afternoon. They’d sipped iced tea at the kitchen table and he’d asked about Sam and Alana who were both out at the time. When he’d asked about her job, she’d told him about Janice’s upcoming operation.
Another major mistake. He might have gotten the idea right then and there to rob her house while she was in the hospital. Then when he’d discovered that Hadley and the girls were staying there, he’d decided to go for real money.
Those were only assumptions, but they would explain everything.
Admittedly, Quinton hadn’t had much of a chance to steal the keys to Janice’s house. The only time he’d been alone was the few minutes it had taken her to go to the bathroom and then to the bedroom to get the hundred dollars she’d lent him.
But the keys were in plain sight, on the hook in the kitchen where she always kept them. He could have tried the keys on her doors in a matter of seconds and known which ones didn’t fit. By the process of simple elimination he’d have realized the other two house keys were to the O’Sullivan home.
It pained her to think that Quinton could commit such a depraved and heartless act. But if he hadn’t taken the keys, where were they?
She whirled around at the sound of footsteps behind her. “Johnny. What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you. I figured you’d be at mass praying for the O’Sullivan girls.”
“You know me well.”
Far better than most mechanics knew their customers. Quinton had worked for Johnny Rouse years ago, before Johnny had fired him for stealing from the cash register. But she had kept taking her cars to Johnny for repairs. They’d started dating a couple of years ago after his wife left him.
“Do the police have any leads?” Johnny asked.
“None that I’ve been told about.”
“Hadley’s gotta be really upset. Her mother, too.”
“They are. We all are.”
“Hopefully they’ll find them today.”
“And find them alive and safe,” Matilda added.
She started walking again. Johnny kept pace.
“I heard you came by the shop yesterday looking for me,” he said.
“I did.”
“My workers said you were acting crazy. Said you insisted they waste an hour looking for some stupid keys.”
“I thought I might have lost them when I brought my car in for an oil change Tuesday afternoon.”
“You had to have your keys when you left, Matilda, or you couldn’t have driven your car home.”
“I lost house keys, not car keys.”
“Well, I didn’t see no loose keys of any kind lying about the shop after you left. I s’pect they’ll show up around your hous
e in a day or two.”
“I s’pect so,” she agreed. “But keep an eye out for them, will you? If you find them, please call me.”
“Sure.”
In spite of Johnny’s prediction, there was an extremely slim chance they’d show up at her house. There wasn’t a square inch of space she hadn’t already searched.
But they could be at Janice’s house. The problem was she couldn’t get into the house unless Hadley was there. And she couldn’t very well turn the house upside down searching for the keys if Hadley was there without admitting she’d lost them.
She would admit it, if it came to that. She hoped it wouldn’t. She couldn’t afford a lawyer. And what would Alana and Sam do if she went to jail and couldn’t work and pay the bills?
“I guess you know Sam stopped in yesterday after you left.”
“He didn’t mention it to me.”
“Yeah, he asked me about a job.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I didn’t. By the time I finished what I was doing and had time to talk to him about it, he’d gone.”
“He’s not very motivated. Having to go to summer school when he thought he’d be graduated by now has really bummed him out.”
“Kids. Say, you wanna grab a bite to eat and catch a movie Saturday night? There’s a new James Bond flick out.”
“Another time, Johnny. I’m not really up to watching a movie.”
“You might be if those girls are safe and sound. I’ll keep in touch.”
“Okay.”
He took her hand and squeezed it. “You take care, Matilda.”
“I will.”
Johnny was a good guy. He liked her a lot but it was clear he wanted more than friendship. He wasn’t a bad catch. He owned his own mechanic shop. He didn’t curse much and when they went out he never drank more than a few beers.
Only problem was she’d had true love before with her husband. She knew how great it could be. She didn’t love Johnny.
Her cell phone rang. It was Janice again. She couldn’t dodge her forever, but she didn’t want to explain her lies over the phone, especially not when Janice was recovering from surgery and in such horrifying angst about her granddaughters.
She wanted to talk to Janice face-to-face. It was the Christian thing to do.
Officer Grummet she could do without.
* * *
ADAM COULDN’T WAIT to sit down with Fred Casey and come up with a plan of action for dealing with the kidnapper. He’d had a fairly lengthy conversation with him while Fred was waiting at the Dulles Airport and Adam’s clothes tumbled in the dryer. The man’s knowledge and expertise were impressive.
He’d shared with Fred the latest information Hadley had received from Detective Lane. There had been several reported sightings of Lacy and Lila. They were all being checked out, but Lane wasn’t convinced that any of them were credible at this point.
The police had not, as yet, located Quinton Larson, but they had reason to believe he was in the North Texas area.
Lacy’s and Lila’s pictures had gone out to every police agency in the country. Local police were currently making house calls on every child sex offender in the city. Apparently there were many.
Adam considered all the information as he dressed in jeans and a shirt still warm from the dryer. He had one shoe on when he heard the screech of brakes in front of the house.
He hobbled to the door. Hadley beat him to it. She opened it and an instant attack of flashbulbs left them both blinking and squinting.
When he could see again, he noted that the van in the driveway was unmarked, evidence they weren’t from one of the major local TV channels. They’d no doubt be next.
“Who are you and what do you want?” Hadley demanded.
“We’re from a national magazine and we’d like to help you get out the facts about your daughters’ kidnapping.”
“Ms. O’Sullivan is not doing any interviews,” Adam announced.
“Just a few questions,” a perky blonde with a microphone insisted. “Where is the father of your missing daughters?”
Adam would have liked to hear the answer to that himself. Instead he stepped in front of Hadley, sheltering her from the push of the reporter and cameramen. “Ms. O’Sullivan has no comment except that her daughters, Lacy and Lila, are missing and her only concern is their safe return.”
“Who are you?”
None of their damn business. “A longtime friend.” He forced the door shut.
“I wasn’t prepared for that,” Hadley admitted. “I felt like I was about to be mauled by a pack of wolves.”
“It will likely get a lot worse.”
“Then perhaps I should have answered their questions so they’d go away and not come back.”
“They’ll only be replaced by a new wolf pack.”
“So I’m forced to deal with vultures every time I open my door.”
Adam had a thousand reservations about what he was about to suggest. He couldn’t imagine how the idea had popped into his head. “I know a place that would make it a lot more difficult for the media wolf pack to get in your face.”
“Jail?”
“A little more comfortable than that.”
“What’s to keep them back?”
“Barbed wire. Possibly a few riled bulls. Fear of getting shot by a cantankerous old man.”
“And where would I find all of this?”
“At the Dry Gulch Ranch, home of the worst father I never had.”
Chapter Six
Hadley’s world was in a tailspin. Adam was an apparition who’d moved into the nightmare and taken control. She wasn’t complaining. She wasn’t sure how she’d get through this without him. As it was, she was holding on to sanity by a thread.
With the girls missing, the reasons she’d had for avoiding all contact with him had become meaningless. Every priority in her life had shifted or disappeared altogether.
Every priority except Lila and Lacy. Her life had centered on them from the moment she’d first held them in her arms. She’d give her life to keep them safe.
Only now it was others she had to depend on to do that for her. Detective Shelton Lane, whom she didn’t fully trust and who didn’t fully trust her. A hostage negotiator she’d never met. Adam Dalton, the man she’d vowed never to rely on again.
And now the father Adam had never mentioned before and whom he admittedly had no emotional attachment to had been added to the list.
Hadley tossed some underwear into an overnight bag. “Tell me more about R.J. What’s his story and claim to fame?”
“Which version do you want?”
“How many versions are there?”
“There’s my mother’s. She says he’s a gambling, heavy-drinking womanizer with no redeeming qualities. She divorced him when I was four.”
“Smart woman.” Hadley added two pairs of shorts to the suitcase. “Do you remember him at all from when you were a kid?”
“Very little. I remember riding with him on a gigantic horse, but then I suspect all horses are gigantic when you’re that young. R.J. is still into horses and owns several thoroughbreds. Which reminds me, you may want to take a pair of jeans and some boots with you. This is a working ranch of sorts.”
“I don’t plan to be there long enough to rope and brand.”
“Just saying, it’s a rustic environment.”
She took a pair of jeans from her closet. “Any other memories of R.J.?”
“I have a vague recollection of his holding me as we swung by a rope and dropped into the water.”
“Was that a frightening memory?”
“Evidently not. I still love grabbing hold of a gnarly rope, swinging out over an old Texas swimming hole and dropping into a pool of splashing water.”
“When I met you, you never even mentioned your biological father. When did the two of you reconnect?”
“We haven’t.”
“Don’t tell me we’re just going to drop in on a
gambling drunk you haven’t seen since you were four?”
“I’ve seen him once. We didn’t work on bridging the disconnect.”
“When was that?”
“Yesterday. In fact, I was there for the reading of his will when I heard about the kidnapping.”
She added a pair of red cowboy boots and then zipped her bag while she tried to make sense of that last statement.
“Okay, Adam. Simplify. Is R.J. dead or alive?”
“He’s alive—for now—and reportedly ready to get reacquainted with his offspring. He’s about to get that chance with me.”
Adam picked up her luggage and started toward the door.
“At least call and tell him we’re coming.”
“Why? If he didn’t like surprises, he wouldn’t have shown up for the reading of his own ridiculous will.”
The sound of engines and skidding tires gave warning that the next round of media shots were about to fire.
“Let’s get out of here while we still can,” Adam said. “I’ll explain what little else I know about R.J. on the way to the hospital.”
“If we can get out,” she said, fearing they were blocked in.
“We’ll get out,” Adam assured her.
He proved it with some forceful maneuvering to push through reporters and cameramen from a local TV station. Once in the truck, he started the engine and lay on the horn, sending the wolf pack scattering.
One of the vans didn’t move. Adam went around them, taking out one of her mother’s prized flower beds and leaving deep ruts in the lawn.
Hadley didn’t notice the sign until they were backing past it.
CHILD KILLER
Printed in what looked like dripping blood. Her insides recoiled violently.
“They’re not dead. Lacy and Lila are alive. Why would anyone say such a thing?”
Adam reached over and gave her hand a quick squeeze as he gunned the engine and left the hideous sign behind. “Pay no attention. It was put there by a couple of women with a twisted sense of justice.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I ran them off at daybreak. Should have known they’d come back.”
