Along the Cane River: Books 1-5 in the Inspirational Cane River Romance Series

by Mary Jane Hathaway

  They exchanged glances.

  “She can get hundreds of thousands in cash just walking in her bank. I’ve seen her do it.” Henry had always thought she was a good liar. She’d nodded and smiled and repeated lies she’d been fed. But now she could hear herself twist the words until it was indistinguishable from the truth. A lifetime of studying good lies and bad lies turned into a few short sentences that just might save her life. “She’s got an offshore account and some financial advisors that help her hide most of her money. She can get cash that won’t be traced.”

  The younger man paced the basement. “She don’t even live here. How would she get it to us?”

  “She’s flying in tomorrow morning. I’ll call her. She’ll bring it.”

  “I don’t think you know her. Lots of people say they do, and they only seen her walkin’ down the street.”

  “Check my phone. She called me about half an hour ago.” Henry glanced around. “It’s… I must have dropped it. You’ll have to go back and get it.”

  The big guy stood up. “Nah. You’re trying to trick us into going back out there.”

  Henry said nothing, just stared back at the two of them.

  “She’s right. We need to get the phone before someone finds it there and tries to track her down.”

  “What if it’s got that GPS thing? It’ll lead them right to us.” They were facing off now, getting angrier by the moment. Henry knew who would bear the brunt of their anger.

  “I can turn it off. There won’t be any way to trace it,” Henry said.

  “I dunno. I think she’s tricking us.”

  “No tricks. I’ll call her, we can arrange how much and where. You get the money, and tell her where I am as soon as you’re out of town.” Henry hoped she was making sense. She wished she’d watched more movies. Her reading tastes didn’t ever have hostage crises or kidnappings for ransom. Maybe she was dooming herself. If Gideon were here, he would see the flaw in her plan, or the trap in theirs. At the thought of him, she felt her eyes start to burn but she swallowed back the tears. No one was going to come to her rescue. It was up to her to get out of this.

  “Okay. Keep the gun on her. Don’t get close. Shoot her if she makes trouble.” The bald man threw Henry a wink. “I’m gonna go get yer phone. Make yourself comfortable.”

  As the heavy basement door slammed behind him, Henry glanced at the younger man. He paced the basement, a sheen of sweat glistening on his pale skin. He was too thin and the dark circles around his eyes spoke of drug use or chronic sleep deprivation.

  He saw her watching and raised the gun. “Stop starin’ at me.”

  She dropped her head and looked at her feet. Somewhere on the path between the buildings was her other red heel, her purse and her phone. Surely someone would think that was suspicious. But then, it was late at night and pedestrians usually stayed along the river walk. She closed her eyes and prayed, the words carrying unfamiliar tones of panic and fear. She’d always prayed for others, or out of gratitude, or even simply out of duty. Now she prayed the way a person does who has reached the last hours of her life.

  Ten minutes later, the door opened and the bald man strode in, dropping her purse onto the ground. He held up the phone. “Took me a while to find it.” He tapped at the screen. “How this thing work, anyway?”

  “Here,” she said, holding out her hand.

  “Nuh-uh. I’m not that stupid.” He grinned. “Tell me how to get to the number.”

  Henry’s heart sank. She carefully walked him through the pages until he found Kimberly’s number.

  “Ok, this is how it’s gonna work. I talk first. Then I hold it up to you. You don’t say nothin’ that I don’t tell you to say.” He reached out and for a moment Henry was confused about why he wasn’t holding the phone. The second before his open palm connected with her face, she tried to jerk her head away, but it was too late. The blow made her ears rings and she tasted blood in her mouth. “Got it?”

  She nodded, tears flooding her eyes. She’d never been hit before, not by anyone. The humiliation she felt was worse than the pain.

  The man dialed the number and waited for Kimberly to pick up. His gaze never left Henry’s face and she realized that if Kimberly didn’t answer, her life was probably over. But then she saw his eyes widen and he said, “Kimberly Gray? I got your niece. You’re gonna give me what I ask for, or she’s gonna go in the ground.”

  Henry almost closed her eyes at the faint sound on the other end. It was high and filled with fear. She couldn’t make out the words but the man didn’t wait to let her finish. He barked his demands into the phone and then held it out to Henry.

  “Kimberly? It’s me, Lorelei.”

  “What’s happening? Who is that? Why―?”

  He took the phone away. “Tomorrow near the under pass at noon. You tell anybody and she’s dead.” He closed it and smiled. “Well, we’ll see how close you two really are.”

  A few months ago, Kimberly might not have answered. She certainly wouldn’t have believed what she’d just heard. Their relationships existed only on the surface, clouded by half-truths and hurt feelings. Now Henry wondered if she would ever really know her after having wasted so many years angrily avoiding her.

  “Let’s get out of here, Rick.” The younger man headed for the door, the gun tight in his fist.

  “Shut your mouth,” he bellowed, swinging wildly in his direction. “Now she knows my name.”

  Henry wondered if they would get in a fight and there could be a chance for her to escape somehow, but the younger man simply cowered against the door.

  “Sorry, man. I wasn’t thinkin’.”

  “Now we gotta kill her,” he said and turned toward Henry.

  “You kill me and she won’t bring the money.” Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest that she could hardly hear her own voice. “And your name doesn’t mean anything. I could have described you well enough.”

  He paused a few inches away and she could see him debating the problem in his head. “I guess you’re right. But I ain’t staying in here all night. We’ll lock you in.” He held up the phone. “Taking this along, though.” He laughed and threw her a wink.

  Henry watched them walked through the door, shutting off the light on the way. For a long time after they left, she didn’t move. She listened to the faint sound of cars driving by and wondered where she was. There wasn’t anyone home or they would have gagged her. She sat there in the darkness, trembling and immobilized with fear.

  The basement had looked just like the one at the Finnemore house, with the small, high windows. It was completely empty, without even a box to stand on. Henry would never be able to reach a window, even if it was wide enough to crawl through. She stood up, feeling her way toward the door. The bigger man hadn’t returned her shoe and the basement floor was cold under her bare foot. After a minute or two, she found the knob and turned it. It was locked, of course.

  She leaned against it, the smooth oak cool against her skin. She’d read once that survivors never gave up hope, that as soon as a victim resigned themselves to death, they stopped fighting. As much as she wanted to believe that Kimberly was going to bring hundreds of thousands in cash on a plane, deliver it to these criminals, and then demand to be told where Henry was hidden, she knew it was very unlikely.

  She shuffled to where she thought her purse was, swinging her hands in low arcs until she connected with the bag. A few seconds later, she felt her keys. The walls were stone but a hundred years in the humidity had made them soft and crumbly. The paint was peeling and bubbled with water damage. Henry made her way to a wall and started to carve letters into the paint and plaster, making sure there wouldn’t be any misunderstanding. She was going to make sure Gideon was exonerated if it was the last thing she did.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  And this wasn’t lying, not really. It was leaving out.”

  ― Stephen King

  “There, I see her car,” Tom said as he pulled int
o the parking lot.

  Henry’s red four door sat right where it should be. He really had lost it over nothing. A wave of shame and frustration washed over him. “I’m sorry about getting you out of bed.”

  “Don’t apologize. I’m just glad everything is okay.” Tom let the car idle for a few moments, the headlights cutting a bright path through the parking lot. “Loving someone is an act of bravery, isn’t it?”

  His question was posed so naturally that at first Gideon didn’t hear the deep truth within it. “I thought I could just leave my demons at the door, but then I fell so hard for her, so fast, that I didn’t realize I’d brought them with me.”

  “Are you going to fight for her?”

  Gideon knew Tom wasn’t talking about Blue, or any other man. He stared out the window at the empty lot. “I’d walk through hell for her.”

  “And you may have to.” Tom’s voice was gentle.

  He imagined the years ahead of him filled with therapy and introspection, and he felt a little sick. “I don’t know if it’s fair to ask her to wait while I figure myself out.”

  Tom was quiet for a moment. “Nothing wrong with honesty, ever. But give her the chance to love you where you’re at. Nobody’s perfect.”

  “But being able to handle a missed phone call is―” Gideon spotted something red near the hedge at the end of the parking lot. Bright red, like the shoes Henry wore that afternoon. He struggled to unbuckled his seat belt, panic making him clumsy. He could never remember where the handle was in Tom’s car and the extra seconds stretched impossibly long as he scrabbled at the door.

  “What are you―?” Then Tom followed Gideon’s lead, jumping out of the car and rushing across the lot.

  Gideon stooped down and grabbed the red high heeled shoe. Somehow there had been the smallest bit of hope that it really wasn’t real, that his fingers would grasp at air and come back with nothing. That it would be another trick of his broken mind.

  “Don’t panic. It’s not certain―”

  “It’s Henry’s. She was wearing them today. I saw her in the bookstore.” Gideon turned in a circle, scanning the lot. He’d known something was wrong.

  Tom was already dialing his phone. “Alice? I’m so sorry to wake you. Can you check on Henry for me?” He didn’t look at Gideon while he talked. “It may be nothing. She just missed a phone call and… okay. Thanks. I’ll wait.”

  Gideon bent down and looked at the gravel. Wide scuff marks led to a spot in the hedge where branches were broken back. Fresh leaves littered the ground underneath. She’d put up a fight. She’d known.

  “Are you sure? Can you get the key? I just don’t want to raise the alarm if she’s asleep and not hearing us.” Tom was still facing away but Gideon could hear the quiet fear in his voice. “Sure, I can hold again.”

  He squeezed through the spot in the hedge, a branch catching him painfully at the sensitive skin near his throat. The alley was pitch dark. He listened hard, but the only sound was a car turning the corner. Gideon looked one direction, then the other, his pulse pounding hard in his ears. He couldn’t find her alone. He didn’t even know how long it had been since she’d been taken. Forcing his mind away from the rest of the thought, Gideon went back through the hedge.

  Tom was looking at his phone. “She’s not there. Alice went inside and checked.” His voice was dull and flat. He seemed to be in shock. Without saying more, he poked out a number and put the phone to his ear. “I need to report a possible kidnapping.”

  Gideon stared up at the sky, the rest of Tom’s conversation fading into the background. There was no reason for anyone to hurt Henry unless they knew she was connected to Gideon. And if they were the men he thought they were, Henry didn’t have a chance.

  ***

  After what seemed like hours of scratching into the wall, Henry traced the letters back with one finger. The deep indentations spelled out everything she’d heard and everything she could remember about her attackers. She’d chosen the farthest corner of the basement and hopefully when they came back, they wouldn’t see what she’d done. Of course, at the same time she could only pray that someone else would read it after… Henry shook away the thought.

  In college, she’d heard a motivational speaker talk about his near death experience and the end of the story was filled with clarity and renewed sense of purpose. Henry settled down against the wall and waited for her personal revelation. It was down to the last hours of her life. It was very unlikely she’d survive. But nothing came.

  She looked back on her twenty eight years and didn’t see anything important. No friends except Patsy. No real accomplishments. She thought of Vonda and Joe, and hoped they would find something really special in the slave quarters. Clark would take it hard. He seemed like he was that type. Bix and Ruby, too. Henry shivered, thinking of Alice and how she would feel knowing that Henry had been kidnapped right below her window. She hoped she didn’t feel any guilt.

  The darkness felt suffocating and she leaned her head back against the wall. She had always thought she’d live a long life, like her grandparents. At least as long as Lisette and Kimberly. But this was all she was going to get, and for the first time, she realized she’d spent a lot of time being angry. Sure, her life hadn’t been perfect. Lisette hadn’t been the most affectionate, but she’d always had enough.

  Henry felt tears prick her eyes. She’d spent so many years wanting everything to be different, when it was just the way it was. All of that energy, wasted.

  She’d only started to live, really. Meeting Gideon had changed her life in a way she’d hadn’t known was possible. She wiped her face, knowing she was probably spreading dirt all over her cheeks. If only they’d had more time. Those few months together felt like years. He’d given her so much and taught her so many things.

  She was making sad little choking sounds now as she cried but she didn’t care. She’d been so worried about getting hurt that she’d been in a sort of dance, wanting to get close but jumping away. And Gideon had simply waited for her. He’d shared his heart, his secrets, his stories, his work. He’d cared about her fears, fixing the door when she was sure she’d get trapped inside, even showing her―

  Henry bolted upright and scrambled to her feet. The keys were still in her hand. She made her way to the door, heart pounding in her chest. Sweeping her hands along the frame, she prayed out loud, hoping against hope, until she hit the large brass hinges. Her hands shook as she began to force a key under one of the pins, wiggling it until there was a gap, then shoving upward until she could grasp it with one hand. Her arms ached as she worked. Pain flashed through her hand as she tore a thumbnail and warm blood trickled down her arm. She blinked back tears and kept working.

  Gideon had joked about her special skill set. But he had one, too, and what he’d taught her just might save her life.

  ***

  The officer fixed Gideon with a stare as Tom explained why they had called for help. Gideon tried his best to look docile. He was no threat. He simply needed them to find Henry.

  “What happened to your hands?” The officer hadn’t shut off his lights and the strobe effect was making Gideon feel sick and off-kilter.

  Alice stood there, arms wrapped around her waist, face pale with fear. She glanced at Gideon’s hands for the first time.

  “I hurt them. At home.”

  “And that scratch on your neck?” He pointed with his pen and Gideon reached up, feeling a long, bloody mark.

  “I went through the bushes, trying to see if I could hear her. Or find her.” Glancing down, he saw several leaves stuck to his shirt and he brushed them off.

  “Officer, our friend Henry is in danger.” Tom stepped between them, trying to recapture the man’s attention.

  “How did you know?” He didn’t take his gaze off Gideon.

  “She was supposed to call when she got off work. She didn’t. I got worried so I called Tom.”

  “They called me to check her apartment. She’s not there, eith
er,” Alice said but the man didn’t even look in her direction.

  “So, you called your friend?” He turned to Tom. “He called you to say his girlfriend didn’t call? And then you went to his house and brought him here?” He turned back to Gideon. “You don’t drive?”

  Another police vehicle pulled into the lot, lights flashing. Gideon felt cold sweat drip down the back of his neck. A week ago, he’d been resigned to another jail term. Now he would do anything in his power to keep from being the focus of their investigation.

  “Please, you have to believe me. She’s here, somewhere.”

  “Stay where you are,” he responded. He turned to talk to the new arrivals and Gideon heard Tom’s voice as if from a distance.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll find her.”

  Gideon shook his head. He’d brought all of this into Henry’s life. She didn’t deserve to suffer any of this, but now she was because Gideon had been selfish. He should have protected her.

  “Mr. Becket, if you could step over here.” Another officer had arrived and he was motioning Gideon toward one of the police cars.

  “You don’t need to question him,” Alice protested. “He didn’t do anything.”

  “Sir, you don’t understand. Henry Byrne has been kidnapped. Or something has happened to her.” Gideon heard the panic in his voice and fought to stay calm. His hands were shaking and he clenched his fists, feeling the ache of the scrapes on his knuckles.

  Tom put a hand on the officer’s shoulder. “Listen, I know you want to cover all the bases. But I was with him―”

  “Please step back.” His eyes had narrowed and he put his hand somewhere at his belt.

  “I’ll show you where they pulled her through the hedge.” Gideon started toward the end of the lot.

  “Stay where you are,” his said, voice raised now. The other two walked forward, the same offensive stance mirrored in their movements.

  “Y’all aren’t hearing him,” Tom yelled and pointed toward the hedge. “We found one of her shoes. Right there. We called you for―”