They were halfway through the first dining room when a voice thundered behind her.
“Do all the Fitzgeralds in Fitzgerald Bay get seated first?” Burke Hennessy had followed them into the crowded room. “They really do own the whole town, don’t they?”
Victoria wished she could hide behind the menus she clutched. She spun around and faced Burke. “I’m sorry, he—”
But the lawyer wouldn’t let her get any further. He boomed on in his courtroom voice. “The Fitzgeralds do own this town, don’t they? They get the best service. Preferential treatment.” He strode between the tables as if before a jury, and came to a stop just above Aaron’s and Brianne’s innocent heads. He glowered at Charles across the two-year-old twins. “It seems Fitzgeralds can get away with murder.”
There was nowhere to hide. The patrons from the back dining room got up from their seats and watched from the next doorway. Others turned their chairs so they could see. Even Charlotte and Britney had given up taking orders and watched with pale faces as Aiden Fitzgerald stomped toward Burke.
“That’s quite enough!” the police chief demanded. “The investigation—”
He didn’t get any further before Burke continued, jabbing a finger at Victoria. “You’re on their payroll too, aren’t you, honey? Or you’d like to be. Let me assure you, Miss Evans, seating Aiden Fitzgerald before me won’t ever make you good enough for their family. You weren’t good enough for them ten years ago. Why would you think they’ve changed?”
Mortified, Victoria looked around her, fearful that Paige had heard. The rest of the town she could live with, but she didn’t want Paige to hear. But her little girl was nowhere in sight. Hadn’t she been gone for a while? What had happened to her?
Aiden flagged his arms in the air as though he could erase everything Burke had just said. “Don’t drag her into this! Your argument is with me, not her.”
“My argument is on behalf of her and every other innocent in Fitzgerald Bay whose rights have been trampled by the Fitzgeralds!”
While Burke yelled back at Aiden, Victoria slipped between tables on her way to the door. Where was Paige? She’d been gone at least fifteen minutes. Her heart rate kicked higher. Her daughter had been so excited to share the details of her trip to the movies. It wasn’t like her to disappear—especially not when she had interesting news to share.
Turning her back on the angry mayoral candidates, Victoria made it as far as the kitchen before she felt a hand on her arm.
She spun around. “Owen!” She immediately thought about Hank’s insistence that Owen was guilty—that Owen was out to chase her from town.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to find Paige.”
“She’s been gone for more than ten minutes.” Owen nodded as though he’d been thinking exactly the same thing. “I just checked the back dining room. She’s not here.”
“She’s not in the kitchen, either.”
Victoria opened the back door and looked around. No sign of Paige.
“Look.” Owen pointed downward to a bowl of milk. “She’s been feeding the cat again. It looks fresh. We must have just missed her.”
“She’s not here anymore. Maybe she went to her room.” Victoria bounded up the back stairs, hoping that Paige was simply late because she’d taken the time to feed the cat. Surely she’d find her upstairs.
Victoria swept into their apartment and checked everywhere. No sign of Paige or her jacket. She spun back around and found Owen had followed her up.
“No sign of her.”
“I don’t think she ever came up here,” Owen observed. “Her fingers were sticky with chocolate, but the doorknob is clean.”
Much as Victoria would have loved to attribute the clean doorknob to her daughter’s conscientious hand-washing, she knew Paige too well. “Where could she have gone? Most of Main Street is closed by now.”
Owen clasped Victoria by the shoulders. His touch was gentle, yet firm. So different from the hold Hank had placed on her shoulder earlier.
“She had her phone with her. Can you try calling her?”
Victoria had been so worried that she hadn’t thought of that. She fished around in her spacious apron pockets for her phone. “One text message,” she read aloud, and then gasped when she saw what it was.
“What?” Owen pulled closer.
“It’s from Paige.” She showed him the screen with trembling hands.
HUMMING MAN IN TRUCK HELP
FOURTEEN
Owen stared at the message and tried frantically to think. His daughter was in a truck with the humming perpetrator he’d tried to chase down?
Victoria raced down the back stairs and landed in the kitchen just in time to see Burke and Christina stalk out the front door, taking part of the evening crowd with them.
Aiden approached her. “I’m sorry—” he began.
“Put out an alert,” Owen interrupted his father and darted out the front door, past the leaving customers, in the direction of the police station. “Paige has been kidnapped.”
“What?” Aiden staggered back.
“Paige sent this—” Victoria showed Aiden the text message. “When my safe was broken into three weeks ago, Paige overheard the burglar humming ‘The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.’ She’s been trying to help us find the man ever since. I tried to tell her safety is more important than catching him, but—” Victoria broke off as Owen bounded back in with a police radio in his hand.
“All units, calling all units.” He broadcast news of the disappearance, including a description of Paige and what she’d been wearing when she’d disappeared.
“I’ve got all that,” Keira’s impatient voice radioed back. “Who are we looking for?”
“Paige Fitzgerald.” Owen grimaced. “Evans. My daughter.”
Victoria’s eyes widened at Owen’s inadvertent disclosure and she looked at Aiden.
The police chief didn’t blink. “We’ll find her.”
Charlotte appeared by Victoria’s side. “Go. Look. Britney and I can cover the restaurant.”
Victoria wanted to protest, but several of the customers had left with the Hennessys and none of the others looked the least bit impatient about getting their food. In fact, a couple of high school guys leaped up from a nearby table.
“We’ll help you look,” the taller one announced, pulling out his keys and charging out the door.
“Me, too.” Charles scooped up the twins. “They’re not hungry after all that popcorn anyway. We’ll drive around. I’ll call if I see anything.”
While officers checked in with Owen over the radio, announcing which areas they were covering, a few more determined-looking citizens brandished their car keys and headed out with promises to do their best to bring Paige back safe and sound.
Victoria looked at the phone in her hand. Maybe it was a long shot, but if Paige had been able to send off a text message, then, at least until recently, she still had use of her phone. Typing quickly, Victoria shot her daughter a text.
WHERE R U
She stared at the tiny screen and prayed while people swarmed around her. Owen continued to relay tactical messages, checking in with the units on patrol. Aiden declared he was headed back across the street to set up a command center at the police station, and Britney insisted on calling Clint and asking him to help with the search.
Then a message arrived from Paige.
BARN
“She’s in a barn!” Victoria screamed. “Paige sent me a message—she’s in a barn.”
Owen gripped her shoulders. “Where?”
Hardly able to control her trembling fingers, Victoria sent another message.
WHERE
She bit her lips and waite
d, praying frantically. The response came quickly.
IDK
“I don’t know,” Victoria translated.
“Come on.” Owen grabbed her arm and pulled her out the door. “Keep asking questions. Ask her about landmarks.” They piled into his Raptor pickup and Owen headed out of town.
While Victoria snapped on her seat belt, before she could ask another question, a text came back.
HANK
“Hank.” Victoria grabbed Owen’s arm. “But he lives in town. He doesn’t have a barn.”
Having left the town behind, Owen turned onto a side road. “He doesn’t, but his father does.”
“Ronald Monroe.” Victoria whispered the name of the retired judge who lived on the outskirts of town in his family’s ancestral estate. Something else clicked about the location. “He lives just off Mayflower Road.”
Owen took his eyes off the road just long enough to meet her eyes. He shifted the truck into a higher gear and it bounced forward.
“Hank was on duty tonight,” Victoria realized aloud. “Did he check in?”
“No.”
“But he would have heard everything you said over the police radio.”
“So he knows we’re looking for Paige.”
The pickup topped a hill. The Monroe estate lay around the next bend in the road. “What are we going to do? We don’t want to make Hank nervous—what if he does something to hurt Paige?”
Owen brought the truck to a stop on the edge of the road near thick tree cover a few feet from where the Monroe driveway began. “Will Hank talk to you?”
“Yes.” Victoria quickly realized that she needed Owen to know what Hank had said earlier. “Owen, Hank was at the Sugar Plum just before you came in with Paige. He told me those were your muddy fingerprints on the wall last weekend. He said he needed my help getting your fingerprints again to convict you.”
Owen’s eyes flashed with Irish temper. “I should have realized it sooner. That’s why Hank never denied the rumors all this time.”
“Why?”
“Because he was the one spreading them. Can you drive my truck?”
Though she wasn’t entirely certain she understood all that Owen was saying, Victoria looked at the manual transmission. “No problem.”
“I’ll hop out here, call my brothers and get them in on the plan, and head in on foot. You drive up, tell Hank you came alone and get him talking, maybe even get him to explain what he’s been up to. Try to get Paige away from him, but most of all buy us time until backup arrives. The rest of us will circle around and close in on him.”
“Then what?” She met Owen’s eyes.
“Once Paige is safe, we’ll apprehend Hank.”
Victoria gripped Owen’s hand. “Do you think it’s going to be that easy?”
“Let’s pray.”
They uttered a quick, heartfelt prayer for Paige’s safety and a peaceful resolution to their troubles. As they whispered a hasty “amen,” Owen met her eyes. Before she could blink, he leaned forward and kissed her. “You’ll do fine. We’ll get her back.”
Then Owen hopped out of the truck and Victoria put it in gear, driving up the long driveway, frantically trying to think of what she could possibly say to Hank Monroe.
Had he kidnapped Paige? Or had she stowed away in his truck by mistake? Was Hank really the humming man who’d broken into her safe? How many of the other incidents at the Sugar Plum might he have been behind?
And most important, how was she going to get Paige away from him?
Owen used his phone to call his brothers and Keira as he made his way through the dense trees toward the Monroe barn. Was his daughter in there? Was she scared? Injured? He needed to get to her. He hadn’t even had a chance to tell her he was her father. Would he ever have an opportunity to tell her the truth?
Ducking back behind a large oak tree, Owen peeked out. He watched as Victoria drove his truck toward the barn.
“Hello?” she called out as she parked the truck and slid out.
“Hello.” A single bulb flickered on above the barn doors, and Hank stepped into the halo of light with Paige under his arm.
Owen’s heart clenched. His daughter! He had to protect her! But he couldn’t risk upsetting Hank. Much as he wanted to tackle him flat, there was nothing he could do but stay out of sight and ask God to watch over them all.
“I had a stowaway in my truck,” Hank growled at Victoria.
“I’m sorry about that. I’ll take her home now.” Victoria took a step closer.
“Not so fast! I didn’t realize until she showed up in my truck how very useful she could be.” Hank licked his lips. “You and I are supposed to be together, Victoria. I’ve always known we’re supposed to be together. But you didn’t agree with me, did you?”
“Hank, we can talk about this. Please, let Paige go.”
“No!” Hank shouted, and for the first time, Owen realized the man held a gun.
“Owen’s here, isn’t he?”
“I—I came alone.”
“That’s his truck.” Hank looked about warily, then called loudly, “Owen?”
Deliberating whether he should respond, Owen kept his mouth shut.
“It doesn’t matter.” Hank pulled something out of his pocket. “I should have given you this earlier. It’s a copy of an email Owen sent to Cooper Hennessy.”
“How did you get a copy of Owen’s email?” Victoria’s voice carried clearly.
“We share an office.”
Though Owen had always been cautious about logging off whenever he was away from his computer, he chided himself for not considering the possibility that Hank might have learned his password by watching him type it in. Armed with Owen’s password, Hank could have accessed his personal account from anywhere—he wouldn’t even have needed his computer.
Worse yet, Owen was nearly certain he knew which email Hank had printed off to share with Victoria—his angry and determined plan to take Victoria to court for joint custody.
He watched Victoria’s face as she read the fluttering paper. She looked pale, as did Paige, standing frozen, eyes wide, with Hank’s hand clamping her shoulder.
“You see, he was never going to let you keep her. Never.” Hank grinned. “But I can help you. All you need to do is gather evidence against Owen. He can go to jail, and you and I can be together, just like everyone thinks we have been all these years.”
With white-knuckled fingers, Owen gripped the stone outcropping of the old fence line he was hiding behind. He had to do something. Paige looked as if she was going to pass out. Surely backup had arrived by now, or would soon. They knew not to buzz his radio for fear Hank might overhear. Though he saw no sign of them anywhere, he had to trust they were keeping out of sight so Hank wouldn’t see them, either.
“We can talk about this, Hank.” Victoria’s voice stayed steady, most likely in an effort to keep Paige calm. “But I think Paige would be more comfortable with me.”
“So you think I’m just going to hand her over? She climbed in my truck herself—thought she was going to catch the bad guy. I’m not the bad guy!” he shouted. “Owen’s the bad guy! He stole you from me! Those stupid Fitzgeralds think they run this town. They think they can have whatever they want, but they can’t. Owen can’t have you, and he can’t have Paige.”
Hank raised his sidearm as he finished speaking, and Owen watched as if in slow motion as the man’s finger moved against the trigger.
He was about to shoot Victoria!
“No!” Owen leaped over the wall, out into the open, not caring whether backup had arrived, not caring about anything but stopping Hank from shooting the woman he loved.
Hank’s hand moved as he depressed the trigger, and the shots flew in
Owen’s direction, kicking up dirt on the hillside.
Owen dived down the slope, hoping to tear the gun from Hank’s hand, or distract the man enough for Paige to get free.
“Owen.” Hank trained the gun on him, and Owen realized that if the man took a shot now, he wouldn’t miss. “So nice of you to join us. You’re just in time to die.”
“You can’t kill him!” Victoria screamed and stepped forward.
Hank kept the gun trained on Owen, but glanced back at her.
“You can’t kill him here.” She stepped forward, thinking quickly. Could she make Hank think she was on his side? “You’d get caught—and the evidence would point to you.”
A sly grin formed on Hank’s face. “You’re right. I knew you were a smart girl. We’ve got to make it look like someone else did it.” He let go of Paige’s shoulders and snapped his fingers. “Charles. We’ll frame him. Burke Hennessy has been calling for his head. All he needs is a charge that will stick. I can fake the evidence just like I planned to fake Owen’s fingerprints at the Sugar Plum crime scene. The Fitzgeralds will go down in shame and the Monroe family will rule this town. My father has been talking about running for mayor. We can change the name to Monroe Bay.”
“That’s a great idea.” Victoria kept her eyes on her daughter. Paige was scared, no doubt about it, but she met her mother’s eyes, and Victoria winked at her. “I have the keys to Owen’s truck. Do you want them?”
“Yeah. Bring them here.”
Victoria hesitated. Hank was highly unstable, and he’d already shown her how trigger-happy he was. She had to use whatever advantage she had. “Just give me Paige and you can have the keys.”
Hank’s eyes narrowed. “Give me the keys! I have a gun!”
“If you want the keys—” Owen jumped into the conversation “—let Paige go.”
“Are you stupid?” Hank shot the ground in front of Owen—a warning shot.
Victoria nearly threw the keys at him at that instant, but realized that would give him every advantage. Where was the backup Owen had been going to call in? Were they waiting for Paige to step away so they could get a clear shot at Hank? She had to get her daughter away from the man.
The Detective's Secret Daughter Page 18
