Tom stood in the hallway observing the reunion through the glass panel in the door as everyone gathered around her. She sat propped against a pillow, looking wan and frail, and yet Tom had the uncomfortable notion that she was secretly basking in all that attention.
Like grim guardians, her dad stood on one side of the bed, her grandfather on the other. Rae hovered at the foot, reaching down every now and then to smooth the covers as if reassuring herself the girl was really there. Lauren Cavanaugh took her place at her husband’s side, beaming down at Sophie as if she were thrilled beyond measure that her stepdaughter had been found safe and sound. But that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, Tom thought. He couldn’t help remembering Rae’s insinuation that something might be going on between her sister-in-law and Dylan Moody. The encounter Rae had witnessed might mean something or it might mean nothing at all. Either way, Tom intended to dig a little deeper into the woman’s background.
Beside him, Craig Jarvis murmured his own reservations. “Why do I get the feeling she’s secretly enjoying this?”
“You mean Sophie? I wouldn’t read too much into her behavior. She’s been through a lot.”
Craig looked doubtful. “Were you able to get a statement?”
“We spoke briefly. She was pretty traumatized when we brought her in. I didn’t want to press until she’d been examined. She says she never saw who took her. She went into the Ruins to leave her symbol on the wall and she heard a noise. When she turned toward the sound, someone grabbed her from behind and shoved a cloth to her face.”
“Sounds like there were two of them,” Craig said. “One distracted her while the other one nabbed her.”
“Next thing she knew, she woke up in a dark, damp room bound and gagged and with no idea how she’d gotten there. She says she was moved twice, once in the trunk of a car and once by boat. My guess is they brought her to the old Thayer house because of its proximity to the Ruins. They were keeping her close just in case anything went wrong at the drop.”
“That was risky, moving her around like that.”
“Probably trying to stay ahead of the search,” Tom said. “It’s not a lot to go on, but she may remember more once the shock wears off.”
Craig gazed through the window. “Remember what Hannah Tucker said about Sophie and Dylan sitting around dreaming up ways to get their hands on her money? A ransom payoff would be a good way to get that missing trust fund back.”
Tom would be lying if he said the same thought hadn’t already occurred to him. “Did you get anything out of Dylan?”
“His story hasn’t changed, and I leaned on him pretty hard once we got him back to the station. We’ll see if he’s a little more cooperative in the morning.”
“Hold him for a few more hours and then cut him loose,” Tom said. “But put someone on him. I want to know where he goes and whom he sees. Rae said she saw him in town yesterday with Lauren Cavanaugh.”
“Lauren Cavanaugh?” Craig gave a low whistle. “That boy has more mojo than I gave him credit for.”
Rae came out of the room just then and Craig conveniently disappeared. Rae took Tom’s arm, drawing him away from Sophie’s room. “I’m glad you’re still here.” The way she stared up at him caused his pulse to thump a little too erratically. “You said you would do everything in your power to find Sophie and you did. I don’t know how we can ever repay you. What you’ve done for my family...for Sophie... There are no words.”
Tom tried to play it lightly. “Ellie is the one who really found her. If she hadn’t called me when she did, we might not have gotten to Sophie in time.”
“I’ll speak to her again,” Rae said. “I want her to know how grateful we are. But you’re the one who found her, Tom. You’re the one.”
“I did my job, Rae.”
“If that’s how you want to leave it, fine. But we both know you went above and beyond. I won’t forget it.”
“I’m just glad she’s safe.”
Rae’s eyes gleamed suspiciously. “It’s hard not to think of the past at a time like this. Hard not to remember a different outcome. But I don’t want to look back. I don’t want to keep wondering about what might have been. Sophie is safe. That’s all that matters tonight.”
Tom wanted to reach for her. To comfort her. To tuck back her hair and kiss away her sadness. Instead, he merely nodded.
“I’ve carried that around with me for too long,” she said. “I blamed you for what happened to Riley because I didn’t want to deal with my own guilt. There were times when I wouldn’t even let myself see you as a real person. It all seems so petty after everything that’s happened. So trivial.”
“You had your reasons, Rae.”
“I thought so then. Now...” She shrugged. “I’m not under any delusions that everything will just magically blow over. Those scars run deep. But maybe with time...maybe when the dust settles...we could have coffee?”
He allowed a brief smile. “Are you asking me out on a date?”
“God, no.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and shuddered. “Dating is too much pressure. Let’s just call it coffee.”
“Fair enough. I’ll give you a call.”
“Or I could call you.”
“Either way.” He gave in to an impulse then. Taking her face in his hands, he leaned in and planted a kiss on her forehead.
The action seemed to take her aback, although he probably hadn’t startled her as much as he’d surprised himself. She pulled away, staring up into his eyes before she cupped his face and brought his mouth down to hers.
Not a good idea, Tom thought. Emotions were running a little too high, and anyway, public displays were not his thing. But with her fingers in his hair and her body swaying against his, it was a little too easy to forget they were standing in the corridor of a busy hospital.
“Rae!”
She would have jumped back at the sound of her name, but Tom held her for a moment longer, pressing his fingers into the small of her back before he let her go. West Cavanaugh stood just outside Sophie’s room, his narrowed gaze pinning Tom with contempt.
“What the hell is going on out here?” he demanded.
“Nothing.” Rae managed to sound perfectly normal. “Tom was just leaving.”
West nodded. “Good. This is family time. Whatever questions you have will have to wait until morning.”
“That’s fine,” Tom said. “But eventually we’ll need full statements from all of you.”
“Then call the house and make an appointment.” West turned his attention back to Rae. “Your brother needs to see you.”
“What about?”
“Sophie’s decided to move back home. You don’t have a problem with that, I trust.”
“No. It’s probably for the best, considering.” She glanced at Tom. “We’ll talk later?”
“Count on it.”
West did not follow Rae back into Sophie’s room. Instead, he remained in the corridor, glowering at Tom. “You found my granddaughter and for that I’m grateful, but it doesn’t wipe the slate clean. Not by a long shot. I’ll never see my youngest daughter again because of you. The hole in my heart will never be mended because of actions you took on the night of her abduction. If you have an ounce of decency left inside you, you’ll leave my family alone and let us heal. Rae has a lot on her plate right now. She’s likely to have more in the near future. Just step back and let her get on with her life.”
Under normal circumstances, Tom would have been goaded to anger, but he kept a tight rein on his temper. “Isn’t that Rae’s decision to make?”
West Cavanaugh’s smile turned sinister. “Don’t be flattered by her attention. She’s reacting to the situation. When push comes to shove, she’ll do the right thing by her family. She’s her father’s daughter, after all. The sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll both be.”
* * *
AFTER TOM LEFT the hospital, he and Craig Jarvis drove over to Jefferson to inform Marty Booker’s sister of his death. As the coroner had predicted, she took the news hard but agreed to meet them at the morgue to make a positive ID. After that, Tom went home to shower and even managed to catch a couple of hours of sleep before he had to be back at the morgue for the autopsy. The preliminary findings bore out Nikki’s suspicions, but it would be at least a day or two before she and her colleagues reached a final conclusion. Regardless, Tom had already decided to treat Marty’s death as a homicide. He’d wasted no time in getting a forensics team out to the Ruins and another to comb through the old Thayer house.
The ticking clock of a missing persons case had gone silent, but he now felt the pressure of a homicide investigation. He worked straight through two watches, leaving the station only when hunger and exhaustion finally drove him home. He ate a cold sandwich and took a hot shower, but he didn’t bother lying down. He was still too keyed up. Pulling on a pair of worn jeans, he took a beer out to the front porch and sat down on the steps to enjoy the evening breeze.
The scent of roses drifting over his neighbor’s fence reminded him of Rae. He wondered where she was at that moment and if she might be thinking about him.
A text message came in and then another. The deputies he had watching Dylan Moody and Lauren Cavanaugh reported in. Everything was quiet. A third ping sounded. It was Rae.
Can’t sleep. You still up?
His thumbs hovered before he responded. Yeah. Can’t sleep, either.
Come over.
I don’t know if that’s a good idea.
Come over, Tom.
He rotated his thumbs while he considered the invitation. Then he put away the phone without responding and got up to go inside.
* * *
RAE WATCHED FROM the window as Tom pulled to the curb. She waited until he got out of his vehicle and then she turned on the porch light and opened the front door. He was already halfway up the sidewalk by the time she came out to greet him. He paused with one foot on the bottom step, gazing up at her.
Emotions flitted like moths—doubts swarmed. She wondered what Tom saw when he looked at her that way. A lonely, desperate woman? He wasn’t wrong. Not tonight. She’d taken care with her appearance. Styled her hair and put on a dress. Maybe she was trying too hard, and wasn’t that the very definition of desperate?
He looked just right. Faded jeans, unkempt hair. Shirt only partially buttoned and untucked. So not desperate.
Slowly he climbed the steps. When he got to the top, he reached for her, drawing her into his arms, kissing her back into the house and closing the front door with his foot. Rae leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, as she toyed with his buttons.
“I didn’t know if you’d come,” she said.
“You knew.” He smiled down at her in that way he had.
Rae slid her arms around his neck and drew him to her. “I knew.”
* * *
THEY WERE IN her bedroom. Tom sat on the edge of the bed as Rae moved around the room, opening windows to the night breeze. She looked ethereal in the moonlight with gossamer curtains billowing all around her. “I smell rain.”
“Storm’s coming,” Tom said. “Not for hours, though.”
“Too bad. I like all that thunder and lightning.” She lit a candle. The flame danced wildly in the breeze. Music came next and then her dress. She unzipped it slowly, letting it fall from her shoulders and puddle at her feet before she stepped out of it. She wore an old-fashioned slip, lacy and slinky, and Tom thought if he lived to be a hundred he might never again see anything so sexy.
She put out her hand and he took it, letting her draw him to his feet. She melted in his arms and they slow-danced with the shadows. He moved his hands over her back, pressing her into him, and then he tucked aside her hair to kiss her neck.
Her head fell back and she sighed dreamily. She seemed content to savor each moment, but then his hand slid up her thigh, lifting the slip, and she shivered. Drawing away, she crawled between the sheets and lay back against the pillows as she watched him undress.
He slid into bed beside her, pulling her close, kissing and stroking until she was damp and trembling. Then she took him in her hand and her mouth, and Tom thought he might have truly died and gone to heaven.
Pressing her back against the pillows, he pushed up the slip and entered her slowly as the night breeze tangled the curtains. She arched her back on a moan. He moved deeper. Deliberately rhythmic as if they were still dancing. She became frantic, digging her nails into his back as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Lifting her hands above her head, Tom paused to kiss her lips, her mouth, her breasts before he rolled them, so that she rose over him and took the lead.
On and on they moved. Kissing and straining and finally shuddering into a powerful release. Tom wrapped his arms around her quivering body and held her close.
* * *
WARM WATER SLOSHED across his naked body as Rae settled back against him in the tub. She’d lit candles again. He would never have thought of her as a romantic. She’d always seemed so pragmatic in her prickliness. But then, he would never have imagined himself as a romantic, either, and yet here he was, enjoying wine and a candlelit bath as music drifted in from the other room.
He slid down deeper in the water. “I think I could get used to this.”
“Hmm. Me, too.” Rae let her head loll back against his shoulder. “Better than having coffee.”
“So much better.”
“A week ago, would you ever have pictured us like this?”
“Not in a million years.”
“It feels right, though, doesn’t it? Comfortable.”
Tom fidgeted as her bottom pressed into him. “I don’t know about comfortable.”
“Tom?”
He closed his eyes and drifted. “Yeah?”
She sat up suddenly. “Did you hear something?”
He pushed himself up and listened. “What did it sound like?”
“I don’t know. The windows are still open in the bedroom. Maybe the curtains knocked over something on my dresser.”
“Hopefully not a candle.”
“I blew them out.”
“Shush.” Tom turned his head to the bedroom. Then he said against her ear, “Wait here.”
He rose and stepped out of the tub, reaching for a towel as he moved toward the door.
“Tom.” He glanced back where she sat shivering on the edge of the tub. She spoke softly so that only he could hear her above the music. “The pistol I had earlier is in the nightstand drawer.”
“Which side?”
She motioned to his right. He nodded and turned back to the door, letting his gaze roam into all the shadowy corners before he entered the bedroom. Easing open the nightstand drawer, he removed the pistol and then pulled on his jeans. Barefoot and shirtless, he slipped across the room and out into the hallway. The music followed him all the way to the stairs. Before he started down, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure Rae hadn’t followed him.
Tom wasn’t a kid anymore. He had no excuse. He was a trained law enforcement officer and had been for the past ten years. Yet he never saw it coming.
The last thing he remembered before the shot rang out was the sound of Rae’s scream.
Chapter Fifteen
When Rae awakened, she found herself prone on a cold stone floor. She thought at first she’d collapsed in her bathroom. But the room she found herself in was pitch-black and the air smelled fusty, like the place had been closed up too long. She tried to sit up, but a wave of nausea crashed over her. Groaning, she fell back to the floor and drew her knees up to her chest, lying motionless with her cheek against the stone until the sickness passed and the cobwebs began to clear.
She remembered hearing a gun
shot somewhere in the house and then a scream. Her own, she thought. She’d gone into the bedroom to check the nightstand. The pistol was missing. Tom must have taken it. Where was he now? She strained to remember. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself picking up her dress from the floor, sliding it over her shoulders as she moved into the hallway, easing on bare feet to the banister to glance downstairs. Tom lay in the foyer in a pool of blood.
Rushing down the steps, Rae had dropped to her knees beside him. Unresponsive. No pulse. Oh, God, where was her phone? She ran back upstairs to the bedroom. Her cell wasn’t on the nightstand where she always left it. She turned to scan the dresser and that was when she saw something in the mirror. A silhouette coming up behind her. She screamed and turned to fight him off, but an arm came around her, holding her close while a rag was stuffed against her mouth and nose. Her head spun. Her legs grew weak.
And now here she was in a damp, dark place...
Panic welled and for a moment Rae couldn’t breathe from the fear clogging her throat. She pushed herself up, forcing back her terror as she glanced around. She could see nothing, hear nothing. She had no idea where she was.
She scrambled to her feet and shuffled forward until her extended arms made contact with a wall. Then she walked all around the room, running her hands over the stone surface until she was certain she’d explored every inch. No door. No window. No way out.
Pressing her back to the wall, she slid down to the floor and buried her face in her hands. Fear came in choking sobs. Dread tightened her lungs. Was this what Riley had experienced before she died, this paralyzing terror? My poor little sister. My poor, sweet girl.
Somehow the thought of Riley spurred Rae and she got to her feet, walking the room again and again searching for a way out. After a while, she started to scream. On and on until she grew hoarse and exhaustion claimed her. She dropped to the floor, throat raw and fingers bloody from scratching at the walls.
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