Safe and Sound

by Fern Michaels

  Natalie’s eyes narrowed. In a million years, she had never once thought Connor had the stones to tape her conversation. Well, blackmail was a two-way street. Like it or not, the two of them were in this together, and they’d have to work something out. Once the house was sold and the kid gone for good, they could each go their separate ways. But where was that damn kid?

  Natalie’s back was to the door as she spooned honey into her tea. She sensed Connor before she actually saw him. “Want some tea?” Her voice was almost as sweet as the honey she was spooning into her tea.

  “No, I don’t want your stinking tea. I don’t want anything from you,” Connor snarled, his voice full of hate, as he bustled around the kitchen. He emptied the coffeepot and cleaned it, something Natalie never did. He made a rude comment under his breath, but she heard it anyway.

  “I heard that! I told you when we got married I was not Suzy Homemaker. You promised me a cook and a housekeeper. I don’t see a cook and a housekeeper, do you? I was up front with you all the way. I never pretended to be anything other than what I am. You were the devious bastard, and look where we are now. Let’s sit down at the table and talk like two grown-ups. Let’s call those women and say we want five million dollars, and we agree right now. We split it down the middle, then you go your way, and I go mine. How does that sound, Connor?”

  “Aren’t you forgetting a little matter named Ben? Did you somehow magically forget that this is Ben’s house, not ours? We’re just allowed to live here in order to take care of him.”

  “What?” Natalie screeched so loud, Connor swore people in the next county could hear her.

  “Don’t ‘what me,’ you moron. Diana bought this house before we were married to get away from her mother and that damn Circle. For whatever reason, we were still living on the Circle when she died. Maybe she had forgotten all about buying the house. Who knows? She was like that, very forgetful, living on her own plane of existence.

  “After she died, as you well know, Ben lived with his grandmother for a couple of years. I had to get an apartment to live in. Then, when his grandmother went to court to get permanent custody, I needed to do something not to lose the goose that would eventually lay golden eggs. Enter the ever-loving Natalie as wife and stepmother.

  “Diana didn’t even tell me about the house until a few days before she was killed, when, for some reason I could never understand, she finally decided it was time to move away from the Circle, and when she did tell me, she told me it was in her and Ben’s name. I told you that. Don’t go saying now that I didn’t tell you.

  “Let me repeat what I just said, so your minuscule brain can take it in. Diana bought this house before we were married. The key word here is before. Now do you get it? We do not own this house; therefore, we cannot sell it. End of story. Period.”

  “You adopted him, so that means you’re in charge of his money, so this house is as much yours as his. Call a lawyer! Like now would be good, Connor Ryan. While you do that, I’m going to call those ladies and seal the deal before someone else beats us to it.”

  “Damn it, Natalie, it doesn’t work that way! I knew you were stupid, but you are acting so far beyond stupid right now that even I am amazed. When they do the paperwork, they’ll see the house is not in my name or your name. It was in the name of Diana and Benjamin Lymen. As far as I know, the deed was never changed. Since Diana is dead, the house now belongs to Ben and only Ben. Diana had no idea she was going to die, so there was no reason to change the deed. And that’s the bottom line. This house is not ours to sell. For once, try to pretend you’re at least a little bit smart.”

  “Forge his name. How’s that for being smart? After I make the call, you and I are going back to that damn Circle, and we aren’t leaving till we find that little snot. I know he’s in one of those houses. We just missed him. He’s there and in hiding. You said yourself he’s resourceful. There is no place else he could be. Let’s go, Connor. We’re wasting time here. Unless you want to end up in jail, we have to be united on this.

  “While you pull out our rain gear, I’m calling those women to tell them we’ll take their offer for five million dollars, and we’ll throw in all the furniture and all the contents. The sheik can move his people in and not have to do a thing. Move, Connor!”

  Connor knew when he was beaten. No way did he want to end up behind bars. He felt sick to his stomach as he rummaged in the laundry-room closet for their rain gear. He had a bad moment when he saw Ben’s slicker and raincoat hanging next to his. He almost lost it then. But a vision of him gripping the bars of a prison cell exploded behind his eyes.

  Connor made a promise to himself at that moment. He would not lift a finger to harm Ben. If Natalie wanted him dead, then she would have to be the one who did the dirty deed. Yes, he would be an accomplice to murder, but he wouldn’t get the death penalty. Hell, he didn’t even know if Virginia had a death penalty. He’d probably get life in prison without the possibility of parole.

  God Almighty, how did it come to this? The answer was greed. Pure and simple.

  “You waiting for a bus, Connor?” Natalie shrilled.

  I should just kill her right now, Connor thought as he made his way back to the kitchen. He could choke her to death, stuff her in the trunk of the car, drive away, and dump her body someplace in the mountains. He shook his head to clear it. He was no murderer. He wondered as he donned his slicker if Natalie was having the same thoughts he was having. There was no doubt in his mind she could kill him and not think twice about it. Except for the fact that she needed him. He felt himself shiver, not with cold but with fear.

  His heart beating trip-hammer fast, Connor followed Natalie out to the car in the pouring rain. There was no turning back now.

  * * *

  Myra and Annie were the first to arrive at the café. They asked for a large table, saying others would be joining them shortly. Then they ordered coffee. Just as the waitress brought their cups and the carafe, Myra’s phone pinged that she was receiving a phone call. She looked at the name on the caller ID and grinned at Annie. “They took the bait. Didn’t take long at all. I’m going to let it go to voice mail.

  “Oooh, here’s a text from Kathryn. I’ll read it to you. ‘The Ryans are on the move. They came out dressed in rain gear, got in the car, and we’re following them. This is just a guess on my part, but I think they’re headed to the Circle. What do you want us to do? Nikki and Alexis have headed back to the farm, so it’s just us. No word from Maggie. One of you call her. We have to pay attention to the road in all this rain if we go back to the farm.’ ”

  “I agree,” Annie said. “Like Kathryn, I think they’re headed back to the Circle. As far as they know, Ben has no one to run to for help. To them that means he’s holed up in one of the houses, so they must believe that their first search wasn’t thorough enough. They won’t have to break and enter this time because the doors haven’t been fixed yet. How long are we going to make them wait till we respond to the voice mail? What did it say?”

  “Just that they’re willing to sell but they want five million dollars, and the entire contents of the house go with the sale. She asked we call her back as soon as possible. To me that means maybe later today or tomorrow. What’s your spin, Annie?”

  “I’m all for delays. They’re riding high right now and have probably already spent the money a dozen different ways. Let them sweat.”

  Myra drained her coffee cup as another text came in from Kathryn. “She says she was right, they went to the Circle. They didn’t follow the Ryans but parked at the Institute, so they can see when they leave. She wants to know if they should stay with the surveillance.”

  “Let’s think this through. They can’t do anything but watch. We have to assume it’s going to take them at least two more hours to ransack all three houses. When they don’t find the boy, they are going to head back home. So, no, tell them to come here, and we’ll talk. Oh, look, here’s Maggie,” Annie said as she fired off a return text
to Kathryn.

  “I’m actually cold,” Maggie complained as she slipped out of her poncho. “It’s raining really hard. My feet are soaking wet.”

  “Sticky buns are on the way.” Myra smiled as Maggie rolled her eyes.

  “Fill me in on what’s happened so far this morning.” She finished her first cup of coffee in two long gulps, then filled it a second time. When Annie wound down, Maggie started to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” both women demanded, their faces creased with worry.

  “What’s so funny is that the house is in the name of Diana Lymen and Benjamin Lymen. She bought the house before she married Connor Ryan and never changed the deed. She paid in cash, so there is no mortgage. The Ryans couldn’t sell it even if someone really wanted to buy it. I don’t even know if they know it’s in Ben’s name. It’s a fact, I checked at the county courthouse. I even printed out a copy to show you all.”

  “We believe you, dear. Natalie Ryan called and left a voice mail a little while ago saying they were agreeable to selling for five million dollars, and they’d throw in the contents of the house. We haven’t responded as yet.

  “Right before you got here, Kathryn sent a text saying the Ryans left dressed in rain gear and headed out. They followed them as far as they could, and, of course, they went directly to the Circle. Kathryn and Yoko are parked at the Institute, so they can see when they leave. We told them to come here. We know where the Ryans are and what they’re doing there. They are convinced Ben is still hiding in one of the houses.”

  “Wow! I called the police department and asked if any kids have been reported missing. They said no. So much for concern about Ben. Where are Nikki and Alexis?”

  “They went back to the farm. They got us Natalie’s and Connor’s cell phone numbers, which is a real plus. It was young Ben’s idea to call the take-out restaurants that the Ryans patronize. They lucked out; the owner gave them the numbers without any hesitation. I guess you got the same text, right?”

  “I did,” Maggie said as she eyed the platter of sticky buns. “That’s going to make my job easier. By that I mean when I call to ask for the interview. I can do it after I finish off these sticky buns. I’m starving!”

  The three women looked up when the bell over the doorway tinkled as Kathryn and Yoko entered, shedding their rain gear and hanging it on the post by the door, along with their umbrellas. “I feel like a duck,” Yoko said, laughter in her voice.

  A second platter of sticky buns appeared along with a fresh carafe of coffee. The women tucked in, enjoying the warm, sugary delight. When the platter and carafe were empty, all eyes turned to Maggie, who already had her cell phone in her hand. She called Natalie’s number and wasn’t the least bit surprised when it went to voice mail. She hung up and pressed in the digits for Connor’s number. He responded after the third ring.

  “This is Maggie Spritzer from the Post, Mr. Ryan. The Lymen Institute gave me your and your wife’s cell phone numbers. I hope that was all right.” Before he could say yes or no, it was or wasn’t all right, Maggie rushed on. “I just tried calling your wife, but the call went to voice mail. The reason for the call is we’d like to do a feature article on you and your wife and what it’s like living with a child genius. This article will bring loads of attention to the Institute because a real-live sheik from Dubai has enrolled his own genius son at the Institute. He’s the same age as your son, Ben. We thought it would be a great human-interest story.”

  Caught off guard, all Connor could think to say was, “Ben’s sick, he’s got some kind of stomach virus that is lingering on. I don’t think he would . . .”

  Natalie snatched the phone out of her husband’s hand, and said sweetly, “This is Natalie Ryan. Connor is our shy one. Tell me what it is you want from us. I heard part of it because he had you on speaker mode.”

  Maggie went through her spiel again, ending with, “And, of course, we are prepared to put you up at the Hay-Adams for two nights and to give you a five-hundred-dollar gift certificate at Nordstrom to use for anything you want. What do you think, Mrs. Ryan?”

  Natalie wanted to say this must be her lucky day, but she turned cagey. “Exactly what will it entail?”

  “Well, this is about you and your husband, parents of a child genius, what it’s like to live with him. We want you to talk about him, but we won’t be interviewing him at all. We have all we need from the Institute in regard to your son, along with this year’s class picture. We, of course, will want to take some pictures of you and your husband, and when the sheik from Dubai arrives, we’ll interview him and run his interview alongside yours and, of course, with pictures of the two child geniuses.”

  All Natalie could think about was the five-hundred-dollar gift certificate at Nordstrom. “When?” she asked.

  “Well, if tomorrow is convenient, we could do it in the morning, then you and your husband can check into the Hay-Adams. We’ll send a limo for you, and, of course, we’ll make sure you get a ride home after you check out. Will that work for you?”

  Of course it would work for her. She would be at Nordstrom when the doors opened the day after she came home. “As long as you understand that Ben is not involved with this. We try to shield him from publicity, and right now, the little darling is in bed with a frightful stomach bug that refuses to go away.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at ten o’clock. I’ll have a photographer with me.”

  Natalie agreed and ended the call.

  Maggie’s fist shot in the air. “She agreed, and I didn’t even have to exert any pressure. I think the mention of the gift certificate is what did it. The minute they leave the house after the interview, I’ll find a way to leave the door open so we can take over the house and wait for them on their return. By that time, Mrs. Lymen will be back and reunited with her grandson. At which point, I assume Ben’s biological father will make an appearance, and it’s happily ever after for that little munchkin.”

  “All right then,” Myra said as she rummaged in her wallet for money to pay the bill. “We should head back to the farm. The roads are going to flood if they haven’t already. What is up with all this rain we’ve been having lately?” she grumbled.

  “Are you sure you don’t want Kathryn and me to go back to the Institute to make sure, when they leave the Circle, they go straight home?”

  “Where else could they possibly go in this miserable weather other than home? The two of them will be tearing their hair out and behaving like maniacs when they can’t find Ben after they’ve completed their search. What better place than home to vent and plot and scheme?” Annie said. Everyone else agreed as they donned their rain gear and headed for their cars.

  As the sisters headed out to the main highway that would take them back to Pinewood, Connor was demanding to know what his wife had agreed to. She explained it in great detail, daring him to say no. He didn’t.

  “The kid is not here. We have looked everywhere, and unless there is some kind of secret room, he is not here in Eleanor’s house, contrary to your belief. I don’t think he was ever here,” Connor said.

  “I agree. Now we go to Irene’s house and check it out. Try to put some energy into it, Connor. This concerns you as much as it does me. Mess up, and I’ll stomp on your neck until it’s nothing but pulp. I do hope you noticed that while all three of those old biddies are gone, this pantry, at least, is well stocked with all kinds of canned goods, canned meats, fruits, and vegetables. The little snot could hide out for a year and not starve. I’m sure the other two houses are the same. Old people like to keep a lot of food handy in case they can’t get out.”

  Connor didn’t know if that was true or not, but he was done arguing. So he donned his rain gear for the slog next door to Irene’s house. As he followed his wife out the door, his gaze fell on the butcher-block knife holder. How he’d dearly love to take the biggest and sharpest knife and plunge it into his wife’s neck. Then he’d step over her and get in the car and drive till
he ran out of gas.

  But he wasn’t going to do that because, at heart, he was a coward. He was glad they hadn’t found Ben at Eleanor’s house. His gut told him they weren’t going to find him at Irene’s or Rita’s house, either. Where he was, Connor had no clue. Secretly, he was glad the little boy had eluded them.

  Two hours later, the Ryans were back in their kitchen; Natalie was pacing around like a wild tiger. Her claws were out, and Connor cringed. “There must be some kind of secret room or something in one of those houses. Nothing else makes sense. He’s in one of those houses, I’m sure of it. Think, Connor, where else would he go? Nowhere, that’s where, so he’s holed up there in some kind of secret hidey-hole only kids know about. Because if he was on the loose, he would have gone to the cops, and they would be here crawling all over the place.” Natalie kicked at the kitchen cabinet as her right hand swept everything on the counter onto the floor in her insane rage.

  All Connor could do was shrug. They had practically dismantled all three houses on the Circle without finding so much as a hair to indicate that Ben had been in any of them.

  “And on top of that, those women did not return my call. I’m going to call again to see what the problem is.”