See You In My Dreams

by Marie-Nicole Ryan

  “You wait. That's ‘bout all you can do, right now. We need you to stay by the telephone, in case there's a ransom demand."

  “I have waited. It's been two hours. There's been nothing."

  “It's early yet."

  A uniformed officer tapped at the door. “I wanted to let you know the FBI will be here shortly. I just heard it over the radio."

  Detective Halloran frowned. “Great,” he muttered.

  Clearly the detective wasn't pleased, but Max didn't care. He'd called the FBI himself. “What about my daughter?"

  “She should be here any minute. We dispatched a patrol car and female officer to pick her up at the Elliotts."

  “Thank you,” Max said. “I'll feel better when she's home."

  Halloran cocked his head toward the door. “If I'm not mistaken, they've just pulled up."

  Max stood up and rushed past the detective and the patrolman in the hall. A wave of relief surged through him. His daughter was already running up the front steps. At least one of his charges was where she was supposed to be.

  “Daddy? What's happened? Are you all right?” Panic was written over his daughter's face.

  “Let's go inside.” Max put his arm around his daughter, pulling her close. “Nikki's been kidnapped.

  “No!” Alexa cried, an expression of fear crossing her young face.

  “She never made it to the gala. Someone knocked out the limo driver and took her. That's all we know. But the police and the FBI—they'll find her."

  Alexa looked down at the floor, then back at him. She chewed her lip, never a good sign in his daughter.

  “What?"

  “Think it was the guy who sent her the nasty e-mails?"

  “You knew about him?” Dammit. Had everyone known Nikki was being stalked, except him?

  Alexa nodded. “Uh huh. He used to send her flowers too. Nikki always threw them in the trash.” Her eyes brightened with unshed tears. “But she said it wasn't anything to worry about. And..."

  “What?” Max encouraged. “Anything you can tell us might help find her."

  “And she said whatever I did, not to bother you about it. I'm sorry."

  Max reined in the fear and disbelief. Putting his fist through a wall wouldn't help anyone. Instead he replied in the calmest tone he could manage. “No one's blaming you, but she was wrong."

  “I-I'm sorry, Daddy,” she said, sniffing. “I should've told you."

  Max gathered his daughter into his arms. “It'll be all right. There's no way you could've known this would happen. We're doing everything we can to find Nikki. Do you remember anything else that might help the authorities?"

  “No, just the e-mails and flowers.” Alexa paused, chewing her bottom lip. “Well—uh, there was this guard at the shelter. He always acted weird around her."

  “Weird, how?” Det. Halloran asked, stepping up and taking over the interrogation.

  “Oh, you know, he always called her ‘Nikki’ and grinned like a real dork whenever she was around."

  “Can you describe him, Miss Devereaux?” the detective asked, leading them back to the study.

  Max appreciated the detective's gentle manner with his daughter. “Tell him whatever you know,” he encouraged her.

  “Sure, he was a big guy, red hair.” She sat down on the leather sofa, her posture, school-girl proper, with hands folded in her lap.

  “How old?"

  “Well, older,” Alexa frowned, then glanced at Max with a sheepish grin. “But not as old as my Dad. Over thirty, maybe."

  Max would have been amused, had the situation not been so dire.

  “All right, we'll check him out. Shouldn't be too difficult. Which shelter?"

  “St. Anne's. I have the number in my cell phone memory.” Alexa pulled a bright red cell phone from her purse, punched a couple of buttons. “Here it is,” she read the number to the detective who recorded it on his note pad, then looked back at Max.

  “He doesn't fit the description, and stalkers usually work alone, but we'll check him out. Can't afford to leave any loose ends ‘cause you never know."

  “Thank you, Detective. We'll cooperate. Whatever you need, it's yours.” Max sat down with a weary slump, then sprang up again too anxious to sit idly by, while Nikki...

  “I have a few more questions, if you don't mind, Mr. Devereaux.” Halloran arched an eyebrow in Alexa's direction.

  Max took the hint. “Alexa, why don't you run upstairs and get ready for bed? There's no point in your staying up. I'll let you know if they find her."

  Alexa pouted. “But it's early. I'm not tired."

  Max sighed. “Please..."

  After a token, huff, she relented as he'd known she would. “Oh, all right. I guess I'd better go to bed. Good night, Detective."

  “G'night, miss."

  “'Night Daddy.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Don't worry. The police will find her."

  Without another word, she turned and left the room, leaving Max alone with the detective. His daughter's grownup reassurance left him a little off balance. His daughter's reactions were so grown-up. Imagine, her trying to reassure him instead of the other way around.

  “Nice young lady. Not like some that age."

  “Thank you. She's all I have.” Max drummed his fingers on the desk, waiting for the inevitable questions.

  He didn't have long to wait. Halloran plunged right in.

  “What's the exact nature of your relationship with Miss Prentice?"

  “Nikki's a friend of the family. She lived with my mother for several years."

  “And now, she lives with you?"

  Max shook his head. “No. She lived here last summer ... as my daughter's companion."

  “Not your companion?"

  “I don't see what bearing my relationship with Nikki has on her disappearance."

  “We gotta investigate every angle."

  Instead of raising his voice, Max lowered it, mustering his self-control. “If you must know, I care for Nikki, but we haven't worked it out.” Max stood placing his hands flat on the desk. “I'm the one who called the police.” Dammit. He knew what came next.

  “I understand your wife died under mysterious circumstances."

  “In an automobile accident. You're wasting valuable time dragging up my personal tragedies. My wife's been dead for twelve years."

  “Perhaps I am. But the report here says, someone tampered with the brakes."

  “That's true, but I assure you it wasn't I."

  “Seems like the French authorities thought it was."

  “They did.” Max took a deep breath ... “Surely your report tells you I've been cleared of her death."

  Halloran flipped a page on his notepad and gave Max a sheepish grin. “Yeah, matter of fact it does.” He closed his notepad and returned it to his jacket pocket.

  The patrolman knocked again. “Feds are here."

  A woman's voice, familiar and low-pitched, announced from the hall. “I know my way to the study, officer."

  Forty-four

  A moment later, Lorena Judson glided into Max's view. He rose and greeted her, “I'm glad it's you."

  “Luck of the draw, I guess,” she said, displaying a rueful smile. “Sorry to see you again under these circumstances.” She flashed her identification for the detective's benefit. “FBI, Special Agent Judson."

  Halloran looked first at Lorena, then at Max. “Guess you two know each other?"

  “Obviously, Detective.” Lorena's tone would have withered a pine tree. “Is the wire tap in place?"

  “Yes, it is, Agent Judson."

  She acknowledged him with a nod. “There will be three agents in the house at all times. I don't want to risk any further incidents. While we wait, I want you to tell me everything you know."

  Walking over to a well-stuffed chair, she sat down, crossing her legs at the ankle.

  Halloran pulled out his notepad, beginning, “Well, first of all—"

  Lorena turned and nai
led him with a stare. “You may turn over all your notes, but I'm talking with Mr. Devereaux and I want his impressions first. I should mention that I'm a profiler, and I'll interview Mr. Devereaux, his daughter, and Nikki's friend...” she paused, looking down at her Palm Pilot, “...Martha Alden, at length."

  “Typical, FBI always takes over the case,” Halloran muttered, huffing into his thick mustache.

  “This is a kidnapping. We have jurisdiction. Get over it."

  “Yes, Ma'am. Shall I polish your shoes, when we're through?"

  Max watched the territorial skirmish. If the situation had been different, he might've been amused. This was a side of the woman he hadn't seen.

  She ignored Halloran's jibe and turned instead to Max. “Now tell me everything you know. Don't leave out anything, no matter how trivial.” She pulled a tiny recorder from her shoulder bag. “I'll be recording the interview."

  He nodded and returned to his seat behind the desk. “I didn't know anything about this stalker until Nikki went missing. Her friend Marti told me about him. Then I discovered my daughter knew about him too."

  “Tell me about Nikki's background. I gather she spent some time on the streets. There could be a link from her past."

  Max shrugged. “I suppose it's possible, but she was only on the streets for a couple months. We met shortly after that."

  “Why did she run away from home?"

  “Didn't get along with her mother. Teenage rebellion."

  “Has she maintained any relationships she might've formed on the streets?"

  “No.” He ran his hand back through his hair. “Maybe someone from the shelter. She and my daughter do volunteer work there, so I guess it's possible."

  “All right. I'll ask Alexa about that."

  “My daughter mentioned e-mails and flowers. In fact, I saw her throwing away some roses, once. I didn't question her, since she wasn't forthcoming when I commented on them."

  “You thought they were from an admirer?"

  “Something like that."

  “Were you jealous?"

  He hesitated, then admitted, “A bit."

  “Was she seeing anyone regularly?"

  “Not to my knowledge. Nikki is a very private person, and I haven't been around much lately. I've been back and forth to the continent for the last several months, settling the last of my mother's estate."

  “Anyone she might've had regular contact with? A newsboy, or delivery person—anyone who made her uncomfortable?"

  “She didn't mention anyone. There's her editor, of course."

  “Her editor?"

  “Geoffrey McHugh. Rafferty's Publications. But they got on well enough."

  “Did she ever give any indication he was interested in her?"

  Max shrugged. “Nothing she said, but he was interested."

  “Really?"

  “Definitely."

  “And his interest bothered you?"

  “Yes."

  ~ * ~

  Alexa eased from her room and tiptoed down the stairs. She sat on the bottom step and listened. The FBI had invaded her home. The phones were bugged. And Mario's mother was installed in the study with her father, and two really cute agents were arguing in the kitchen. She tried to make herself small ... invisible would've been better.

  Carrying a laptop computer under his arm, a third agent walked by declaring, “We should've brought a computer expert. Nikki's friend just told me the stalker had sent her some threatening e-mails."

  “Exactly,” the second agreed, “we need someone who can access Nikki's Internet account and break into her personal files."

  “No, that'll take too much time,” the third argued. “Let's try it ourselves, first."

  “I can do it,” Alexa said.

  In unison, their heads turned toward her. “You can?"

  “It's a piece of cake.” Alexa was puzzled. Had these big, smart FBI guys never seen a computer? “It's really simple. Nikki set up a screen name for me on her account. Her password is stored, so you don't have to know it to get in."

  “And you've done this before?"

  “No, of course not. I've only accessed my files under my screen name, but I figure this is sort of an emergency, right guys?"

  “Kid has a point,” the red-haired agent agreed.

  “Lead on, little Birkoff,” the blond agent gestured.

  Alexa rolled her eyes. “Birkoff? Who's that?"

  “Never mind,” the blond replied. “You don't get to stay up that late."

  “How do you know how late I stay up?"

  “Well, you shouldn't stay up that late,” he amended. “By the way, I'm Agent Samuels. The carrot top is Agent Russell, and the tall fellow with no sense of humor whatsoever is Agent Eastwood."

  “Eastwood?” Alexa giggled. Maybe she hadn't heard right.

  “Yeah, that's right, his name is Clint “make my day” Eastwood.

  “I bet you get teased a lot, don't you Agent Eastwood?"

  Agent Eastwood stood taller, if possible, straightening his very broad shoulders, and frowned. “We're wasting time. Young lady, if you can get into that computer, do it. Now."

  “Y-yes, sir.” Agent Eastwood and no sense of humor, she mused.

  Alexa walked into the sunroom, followed by the three agents. She pulled out the chair and sat down in front of the computer. A double-click and another click and she was in. “It's all yours.” She pushed the chair back and stood up. “Just click on the Internet icon to get to Nikki's files."

  Agent Samuels sat down and followed Alexa's instructions. “Didn't she ever delete anything?” There's six months of sh—uh, e-mail in here."

  She shrugged and smiled. “Have fun, guys. I'm going to check on my dad."

  As she headed toward the study, it occurred to her what an awful person she was. Flirting with the FBI agents when Nikki was in danger, maybe even ... No. Nikki had to be okay. The FBI would find her.

  Forty-five

  He'd designed the room with her in mind—an eight foot square, concrete block-walled cellar. It was perfect for stashing away the woman of his dreams.

  He watched Nikki on the hidden camera and smiled to himself. The dear girl had no idea she was being watched. He'd never forgotten his early experience with her. Her rejection had irritated him beyond belief. He would've had her had not someone interfered, and now he knew where that someone was. He'd take care of that one later.

  ~ * ~

  Under Lorena's endless interrogation, Max felt like a virus under the microscope of her discerning eye. It was obvious she had no intention of going easy on him. Not that he wanted her to, but it took all his self-control not to cringe as her questions grew more and more personal.

  “I understand there was an unfortunate incident with a photographer early in Nikki's career?"

  “Yes."

  “I imagine it was very painful for her."

  “I suppose."

  “You never discussed it with her?"

  “I told you. She's a very private person. She dealt with it the only way she knew how."

  “How was that?"

  “I'm not a psychologist, but I would say she was in denial. Afterwards, she simply refused to admit she was upset. Refused to discuss it. Wouldn't see a therapist."

  “What about her relationships with men, after that?"

  Max shook his head. “My mother tried to comfort her, but Nikki refused to be comforted. She didn't want anyone to know."

  “But people found out—before she wrote about it?"

  “Yes, the photographer bragged to everyone."

  “She was humiliated?"

  “Wouldn't you be? But she was strong. She held her head up high and ignored the gossip."

  “So this photographer—uh, Ian Starr, got away with date raping a minor."

  He sucked in a deep breath, then let it out. “Not exactly."

  The agent's gaze narrowed as she looked at him. “What happened?"

  Max cleared his throat. “He was advised
to leave the country and not return."

  “And he did? Just like that?” she asked, her expression skeptical. “Who advised him?"

  “I did."

  A smile played about Lorena's lips. “After you beat the hell out of him?"

  “Yes."

  Lorena stopped the recording. “Off the record, I'm glad you did,” she said with a smile and turned toward the silent detective. “Any problem with that, Detective?"

  “Son of a bitch got what he deserved. But why didn't she report it?” Halloran asked.

  “Because he used a drug on her.” Max's voice grew harsh with emotion. “She couldn't remember anything, except waking up in bed with him. As of yesterday, the bastard was in Monaco and up to his old tricks."

  Halloran nodded. “We'll check him out anyway. Make sure he didn't hop on a plane and come back to the States for a little personal revenge."

  “Daddy? Is everything okay?” Alexa asked.

  Max swallowed. He'd been so caught up in reliving the horrible incident he'd not seen his daughter standing in the doorway.

  “Everything's fine."

  Alexa glanced over at Lorena, giving her a diffident smile. “Hi, Mrs. Judson."

  “I'm glad to see you again, Alexa,” Lorena said, offering the girl a genuine smile. “If you don't mind, I'd like to interview your daughter, now—since she's here."

  “Of course, anything,” he agreed. No telling how much information his daughter had unknowingly stowed away.

  “I'd like to talk to her alone, with your permission, of course. It might be less distracting."

  He glanced at his daughter, judging her response.

  Alexa nodded. “It's okay, Daddy. I don't mind."

  Max stood up and walked to the door. “Coming?” he asked Halloran."

  “Yeah, sure."

  The last thing Max heard before he shut the study door was Lorena's soft voice. “Now tell me about the flowers and e-mails—the ones that upset Nikki."

  ~ * ~

  Nikki. He'd been quite angry, when she'd rejected him, then disappeared. For a long time he'd wondered where she'd gone and what had happened to her. He'd even feared that she'd fallen victim to foul play. He couldn't keep from laughing aloud at the concern he'd actually felt for her then.