Weep In The Night

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Weep In The Night Page 19

by Valerie Massey Goree


  Smitty maneuvered his car across the lot where they had a clear view of the rooms, reversed in, and then opened the windows. Tempting smells of burgers and fried chicken from the nearby restaurant floated in on the slight breeze.

  Sadie swallowed and kept her eyes on the motel. Was Hannah in one of those rooms? Maybe the one with the yellow Do Not Disturb sign dangling in the breeze. Was she watching TV? Eating lunch?

  A pickup entered the lot. Another vehicle roared out. The door with the sign opened.

  “It’s Evelyn Adams.” Sadie sat up straight

  The woman scurried to her car. She dropped the keys, almost fell over when she bent to pick them up, and struggled to unlock the door. As she drove past them, she rubbed her temple as if massaging away a headache.

  “She looks terrible. Is she ill?” Sadie rubbed her own brow in sympathy.

  Smitty set his key in the ignition.

  “What are you doing? Hannah might still be in the room.” Sadie opened her door. “You can chase that woman, but I’m going to check.” She rushed to the building and knocked on the door.

  Smittty joined her as she knocked again. “Don’t call her Hannah. Remember she goes by Penny.”

  Heart racing, Sadie pounded on the door. “Penny. Penny Adams, are you in there?”

  A man popped his head out of a doorway two down and scowled. He retreated after making a rude gesture.

  “Maybe Evelyn told her to ignore anyone at the door.”

  “Each room probably has a window around back. You stay here while I check it out.” Smitty crept around the corner.

  Listening at the door a moment longer, Sadie closed her eyes. “Please, God. Let me find Hannah.”

  Back in the car, she stared at the door of Evelyn’s room.

  Ten long minutes later, Smitty strolled around the building as if he had nothing better to do. He slid behind the wheel.

  “What did you find?”

  “I got in through the bathroom window. No Hannah, but there’s plenty of evidence that she’s been there—girls’ clothing and toys, school books.”

  “What now?”

  Resting his muscled forearms on the steering wheel, Smitty glanced at her. “You may not be hungry, but I’m starved. Let’s find a place to eat where I’ll relay this information to the office. We’ll return later and see if Evelyn’s come back. I think it’s time we confront her and take the child.”

  Sadie had no intention of leaving the motel. “There’s a restaurant across the way. I’m going there to eat where I can watch the parking lot.”

  “But there’s probably nothing healthy on their menu.”

  “Suit yourself. That’s where I’m going.”

  They entered the Blue Hills Café and asked for a booth by a window. After a brief wait, they were seated and given menus.

  Sadie scooted across the smooth turquoise vinyl until she could see the whole motel parking lot. “They have a bunch of salads, Smitty. Is that healthy enough for you?”

  “I guess, as long as they don’t fry them.”

  While they waited for their order, Smitty texted a long message, his thumbs flying across the tiny keys. He slid his phone into his pocket. “I told them everything we’ve discovered. Another operative will keep watch if we don’t see Evelyn again today.”

  After their food arrived, Smitty griped about the poor quality of lettuce.

  Sadie ignored his comments until she noticed the twinkle in his eyes and the twitching of his lips. How did she miss his teasing note? She kicked his foot under the table.

  “What? I’m eating, aren’t I?” His grin softened the tone of his words. Then he bumped Sadie’s foot. “It is pretty good.” He tapped her foot again. “Any movement at the motel?”

  Unnerved by his playing footsie, Sadie glanced outside. “Evelyn hasn’t returned. How long are we going to stay here?” She shifted in the seat and moved her foot. Was she imagining his flirting or was he teasing again?

  “We can stay another hour or two. I have to get you back to the safe house before dark. Are you ready?”

  As they neared the lobby, he slid his arm across her shoulders. “We could rent a room and keep watch from there. Have fun while we wait.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  Sadie decided to beat Smitty at his own game. She could tease, too. “Here? Are you kidding? I require a five star hotel.”

  His jaw muscles clenched, and the gleam dissolved from his eyes.

  Ha. Gotcha.

  She flounced to the restroom, convinced Smitty wouldn’t try another pass at her. A feast for the eyes for sure, but nothing in his character attracted her.

  Returning to the lobby, Sadie took Smitty’s arm. “Let’s wait in your car.”

  Once outside, he drew her under a tree. Frown lines formed a V between his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Touched by his sincerity, Sadie squeezed his arm. “Let’s get back to the motel.”

  Walking to the car, Sadie spotted a man cross the parking lot. His gait and build tugged out a memory. She slowed. With her hand still on Smitty’s arm, she pulled him to a stop and used his massive body as a shield.

  “What’s up?”

  Words formed in her brain but lost connection with her mouth.

  Kyle.

  A sinkhole opened in Sadie’s heart. What was he doing here?

  Smitty tensed. “What is it?”

  “There’s a man going to the motel. It’s Kyle. From Austin.”

  “Kyle? Here?” He glanced over his shoulder. “Is that him in the navy warm-up suit?”

  She nodded, clutching Smitty’s T-shirt. “Call the cops.”

  “We can’t involve the authorities. What would we accuse Kyle of? All we can do is keep watch.”

  Smitty guided Sadie to a cluster of trees. With the trunks as cover, he made a call to the office.

  Sadie never let Kyle out of her sight. He sidled slowly past Evelyn’s door but didn’t stop. “He has to be here because of Evelyn and Hannah. If the local cops can’t help us, I’m going to call WITSEC.”

  “That’s a good idea. Let me get a secure connection for you.” Smitty made another call using Bravo Tango words as Bowen had done. Sadie paid no attention until he handed her the phone. “Do you have the L.A. number?”

  Flipping through a little notebook she pulled from her purse, she stopped at a dog-eared page. “Here it is.”

  “We’re far enough away from Kyle. Put the call on speaker.”

  She dialed, identified herself by name and case number, and waited a few seconds before Elia Valdez spoke.

  “Sadie Malone. We’ve been looking for you. What happened in Austin?”

  “Do you know the details of my case?”

  “I do, but let me hand this over to my partner. He has a special interest in your situation. His name’s Jake Quillian.”

  A click, elevator music, and then a deep voice. “Hi, Sadie. This sure is a pleasure. How can I help you?”

  “You’re familiar with my case?”

  “Of course. Where are you? You need to come in.”

  “I don’t have time to discuss that. My daughter’s alive, but I don’t know exactly where she is right now. There’s a man here from Austin. His name is Kyle Nelson, and he discovered my identity. He’s found the place where my daughter’s been living.”

  “Is Kyle still there?”

  “No. I think he drove away.”

  “Sadie, you did the right thing calling. We’ll handle everything.”

  Grabbing her notepad, Smitty scribbled and pointed to the words. Don’t tell him too much.

  “Mr. Quillian, what do you want me to do?”

  Smitty covered the phone and whispered, “How can he handle everything when he doesn’t know where you are?”

  An iceberg slammed into Sadie’s chest.

  “Sit tight,” Jake said. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be in Santa Clarita before dark.”

  The phone slid from Sadie’s gras
p. Smitty’s warning blazed in her head. How did Jake Quillian know she was in Santa Clarita?

  30

  The satisfied expression on the attorney’s face as she approached heralded good news for Bowen. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Boudine. Your testimony is not needed. You’re free to go.”

  Bowen thrust his briefcase under his arm and yanked off his tie. Snippets of scriptures he’d read ministered to his soul as he threaded his way through the parking garage to his car. Come Sunday, with or without Sadie, he’d attend the community church.

  His phone hummed—a text from Smitty. What did the Golden Boy want to brag about now?

  However, the words Bowen read twisted a dagger into his gut. We found Evelyn. No Hannah. Trouble. Kyle here and problem with WITSEC.

  Bowen’s heart dropped even as he replied. How had they gotten in so much trouble in so short a time? His phone beeped.

  Sadie’s with me. Safe.

  “Of all the lame brained, stu—” Bowen roared out of the parking garage. He had to see for himself that Sadie was safe. Although a good operative, Smitty sometimes allowed his bravado to cloud his judgment. Bowen slowed his racing thoughts, trying to work out how they could recover the situation.

  Smitty had located Evelyn. Good. Where was Hannah? Unknown. Kyle was in Santa Clarita? Bad. What about WITSEC? Not good. Not good at all.

  “God, please keep Sadie and Hannah safe.” Unfamiliar words came out of Bowen’s mouth. Did one little sentence constitute a prayer? A spark of heat flared in the center of his chest. He liked the sensation.

  Vehicles clogged the freeway. It would take over an hour to reach Santa Clarita, but to keep Sadie safe, he’d endure all the traffic on the continent.

  Another text. He couldn’t afford to stop again. Knowing it was against the law, he read the message, anyway.

  Evelyn returned. Going to confront her.

  31

  “Evelyn’s back in her room.” Sadie lowered the binoculars.

  “Let me handle her.”

  Smitty popped the glove box and pulled out a holster with a long strap. He wound it over one shoulder, adjusting it so the gun fit snuggly under his left arm. Next, he slipped into a windbreaker and opened his door. “Let’s roll.”

  He knocked on the door and waited, his right hand under the left side of his jacket.

  The door creaked open and Evelyn wavered into view. Thin gray skin covered her haggard face. Her eyes were dark caverns.

  “Evelyn Adams?” Smitty lowered his arm.

  The small woman raised her head in the direction of his voice but focused on a point in the distance.

  “Ms. Adams, are you all right? Where’s Penny?”

  “I don’t know.” A shiver raked her slender frame, almost knocking her over.

  “What do you mean you don’t know?” Hysteria cranked Sadie’s tone up a notch. “Was she here with you?”

  “He took her.”

  Sadie clutched the doorjamb for support. Icy fear gripped her heart. She brushed past the woman and entered the room.

  Evelyn sank onto one of the unmade beds.

  Smitty closed the door. He pulled up a chair. “Who took the child?”

  “Who are you?” Evelyn stuck her hand into the pocket of her dark brown skirt.

  Smitty moved his hand to his holster and then dropped it when Evelyn extracted a rumpled tissue.

  “I don’t have a child. What are you talking about?”

  Sadie yanked a coloring book off the dresser. “Then why do you have this? Come on, Evelyn. We know a child was here.” Sadie pointed to a box in the corner and opened the closet. “We see her toys, and these are probably her clothes.” Anxious and angry, she stormed back to the bed. Grabbing the frail shoulders, she yelled, “Where is my child?”

  Evelyn crumpled. Sobbing hard, words stammered out. “The man took her. The man with…with the moustache took her.”

  “When? We were watching all afternoon? When did he have the chance?”

  Smitty held up his hand. “Ms. Adams, when did he take her?’

  “At…at noon.”

  “Noon? That was before we arrived.” Smitty stood and paced in the small room. “Then why did he come back?”

  Evelyn did not answer.

  Unable to keep her lunch down, Sadie dashed to the bathroom and threw up. No. No. Kyle could not have Hannah. She wiped her mouth and slumped to the cold tile floor. The distorted words of Smitty’s questions and Evelyn’s answers reached her ears as roaring static. Would she ever see Hannah again? Gray mist clouded her vision. She longed for oblivion.

  “Come on, Sadie. Up you get.” Smitty took her hands and helped her stand.

  “Why did Kyle take her?”

  Evelyn’s hand trembled as she stuck it into her other pocket and withdrew a slip of yellow paper. “Earlier today I got a ransom call.”

  Blood whooshed out of Sadie’s head. Little dots of light floated. She swayed and landed on the bed.

  “How much do they want?” Smitty asked, his voice hard.

  “He didn’t ask for money. A garbled voice told me to go to Creekview Park and wait on a bench next to the big tree at the south end.”

  “And?” Sadie’s voice sounded hoarse even to her own ears.

  Evelyn stood and turned to Sadie. “Penny has your eyes.”

  Shards of pain pierced Sadie’s heart. “You know who I am?” She shook off the implications of Evelyn’s words. “What happened at the park?”

  Evelyn shuffled towards the door. “I found a note there.”

  A quick step and Smitty reached the door first, barring her way. “What did the note say?”

  Evelyn threw the little square of paper at Sadie. It landed on the olive green spread. Her words sliced through the stuffy air. “Read it for yourself.”

  Sadie snatched the paper scrap. She struggled with the folds and finally, dark scrawled words snaked across the wrinkled yellow square.

  I don’t want money. Go home. I’ll contact you at 7. I want the child’s real mother.

  32

  Sadie fumed with rage and collapsed onto the bed.

  Evelyn withered and shrank into the shadows.

  Still guarding the door, Smitty tapped keys on his phone. “I’ve reported this latest development to the office. Now we need to call the local police.”

  Sadie catapulted off the bed and grappled for Smitty’s phone. “No. They’ll find out who I am and notify WITSEC.”

  “We must report the kidnapping. And WITSEC already knows you’re here somewhere. Boudine and I can’t handle this alone.”

  Contact the police and give up her freedom? Risk calling WITSEC again and hope she reached Valdez instead of Quillian? Kyle’s note said he’d contact Evelyn at seven, ninety minutes away. Would she be safe here until then?

  “Please don’t call the police until Kyle contacts Evelyn. Can you give me that much time?”

  “OK, Sadie. I understand your reluctance to involve the authorities, but I’ll have to call, eventually.”

  Turning back to Evelyn, Sadie’s voice took on a new authority. “Since you know who I am, please tell me how you found Hannah.”

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  “Your fate’s not in my hands. Tell me what I need to know. Please.”

  “I found her beside the Santa Ana River. I was walking my old dog and saw a little bundle on the embankment, a piece of wood near the child’s hand. She must have used it to stay afloat.”

  Sadie covered her mouth.

  “She was battered and bruised but alive. I took her home. At first, she had no memory of the accident or who she was. I called her Penny and after a while she stopped asking about you and her daddy.”

  “You knew about the accident?”

  “It was in the papers the next day.”

  What kind of sick person would keep a child from her mother? “Why didn’t you contact the authorities?”

  Evelyn raised her eyes to the ceiling, her lips quivering. “I
read about the trial and saw you on TV. That man threatened you. I thought he would kill Penny. I wanted to help her and keep her safe.” She sniffed and dabbed at a tear. “I’ve treated her right and I wasn’t lonely anymore.”

  Sadie stumbled into the bathroom where she tore off the wig, and threw cold water over her face. Slamming the door shut, she swiped at her wet face with a wad of tissues. Her baby had been in that cold, dark water all alone. Had she suffered? She must have been so scared. But Evelyn had taken care of her, kept her safe. Sadie’s anger and grief were tempered with the knowledge that this woman had saved her child. Like Moses and the Egyptian princess, her baby lived because someone saved her. Still, Sadie wanted to wail, to cry to heaven at the loss of those precious years in Hannah’s life. Alone in WITSEC, Aaron dead, Hannah would have eased those long, lonely years.

  A phone rang in the bedroom. Sadie checked her watch. Five forty-five. She picked up the wig and opened the door.

  Evelyn mumbled into the phone. She turned and covered the mouthpiece, eyes widening at Sadie’s changed appearance. “Your name is Sadie Malone, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  Evelyn held the phone out to Sadie. “It’s for you.”

  She couldn’t move.

  Smitty placed his hand on her back and whispered, “Hold the phone so I can hear what he has to say.”

  Sadie took the receiver, her hand and voice shaking. “Hello.”

  “Sadie?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s been a long time.” Lonnie Levasseur’s voice hadn’t changed.

  “What do you want?”

  “It’s not what I want that matters. It’s what you want.” He let the words sink in before adding, “I have something, no sorry, someone you want.”

  Smitty caught her when her knees buckled.

  “Tell me, Lonnie.”

  “Ha. So you know it’s me. I’m flattered.”

  “Just say it.”

  “I have your daughter, and if you want to see her alive again, you’ll meet me in L.A.”

 

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