Thicker Than Water

by Maggie Shayne

  “I’m your father. We can have blood tests done to confirm it, if it would help you to accept me, Dawn.” Then he smiled slowly. “Dawn. That’s not your real name, you know.”

  Dawn blinked at him. She was afraid, not only for herself, but for her mother, lying back there over that drop-off, unconscious or worse. She wasn’t even sure anyone could see the car from the road. What if no one found her? What if…?

  “When you were born, your mother named you Sunshine.”

  Dawn frowned, looking at him. “That’s not a name.”

  “Sure it is. We called you Sunny.” He smiled softly. “We were inseparable back then. I spent so much time with you. And when you would look up at me, you had these eyes that seemed so much wiser than they should. Like you knew me.”

  She licked her lips, lowered her head. “How can I believe anything you tell me?”

  He frowned, tipping his head sideways. “I don’t—”

  “How can I trust a word you say when you kidnapped me at gunpoint after you ran our car over that cliff?”

  “That wasn’t supposed to happen. She shouldn’t have lost control.”

  “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you left my mother back there, hurt and alone.”

  “She’s not your mother.”

  Dawn jerked as if he’d slapped her. “She is. To me she is. She’s the only mother I’ve ever known.”

  He glanced at her. Dawn let the tears come, and he reacted. “Don’t cry, Sunny. Please, don’t cry. I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

  “Then call someone to help my mother. Please.” His lips thinned, and she thought his anger was returning. “If you don’t, I’ll never see you as anything other than a man who left someone I love to die. I’ll never believe you really tried to heal her back there. I’ll never believe anything you say to me.”

  “Sunny—”

  “But if you do send help, I’ll believe you,” she said, her voice softer, calmer. “I’ll listen to what you have to say. I’ll even try to keep an open mind. I promise, I will.”

  He glanced her way again, considering.

  “I’ll know that you really do try to live by the things you write in your books. That you aren’t a fake. Things like—you only get good if you give good. And that doing harm to others will draw harmful energy right back to yourself.”

  His brows went up, and he looked surprised. “You’ve read them?”

  “All of them,” she told him. “Every single one. And I watch your show, too.”

  He smiled. He didn’t look at all frightening when he smiled. He had a pleasant face, round eyes that were the deepest darkest brown she’d ever seen, and a shaved head. He could look solemn or menacing, but right now, he looked kind. He looked like the man she’d once admired.

  “All right,” he said. “We’ll call as soon as we can get reception on the cell.” He nodded toward where the cell phone hung from its holder on the panel. “You keep track, let me know when we’re in range, okay?”

  She forced herself to return his smile. “Thank you.”

  “Uh-uh. Thank you, what?”

  She fought down the sarcastic reply that leaped into her throat and said what she knew he wanted her to say. “Thank you, Father.”

  He reached toward her, cupped her head with one hand. “I’ve been waiting so long to hear that. God, you have no idea how it’s been. Searching for you. Missing you.”

  To Dawn’s utter surprise, a tear welled up in his eye. He turned away, then focused on the road, dropping his hand away from her.

  Dawn reached for the cell phone and waited for a signal to appear.

  * * *

  Julie hobbled back along the road for an amount of time impossible to measure. It seemed endless. Step by agonizing step, weight on the right foot, weight on the branch, drag the left foot ahead. When she stumbled and put pressure on the damaged foot, the pain set off fireworks in her head. She prayed a vehicle would come along and give her a lift, but none did. This place was deserted. The fall foliage was long past its peak, and the hunting season hadn’t yet begun. They’d seen almost no traffic on the drive up. Almost. With the exception of one black Jaguar.

  The wind was colder than it had been before, stiffer. It smelled of pines and winter. She hadn’t tasted winter on the air at home. It came earlier here. She shivered and hugged herself.

  She had no idea how long she’d been walking when she spotted a trailhead off the roadside that led down a hill and into the woods. She paused on a hunch, went to the wooden structure that held a map of the trail and saw that it was what she’d hoped it was. A shortcut to the diner. While the road looped out and around, the trail went straight down, through the steep woods, meeting the road again at the far side. It would save a couple of miles.

  She took the trail, forcing herself to walk as quickly as she possibly could, blocking out the pain by telling herself that she had to get to Dawn. She had to save her.

  When the little diner came into sight way off in the distance, it was like seeing a candle in the darkness. She forced herself to move faster.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Sean started looking for the diner five miles before he spotted it, panicking at the thought that he might have passed it. When he finally saw the sign up ahead, swinging in the wind that seemed to be picking up, he sighed in relief. He wouldn’t find Julie and Dawn still there, he knew that. It had been hours since Julie’s call. But maybe someone there would remember them mentioning where they were going or where they planned to stay, or even so much as what direction they’d gone. Anything, any clue, would help.

  He pulled into the driveway and saw a woman standing at—no, leaning against—the pay phone, and the shape of her, the color of the ponytail that was barely holding together, made his heart contract. The hairband had slid low, and there were as many dark locks flying loose in the wind as there were held within its confines.

  He stopped the car, got out and started toward her. “Jones?”

  She didn’t turn. She was leaning against the side of the phone booth as if she could barely stand, holding the telephone to her ear, whispering adamantly into it, though the words were carried away by the wind. He couldn’t hear them. She wore jeans that were splattered with dark stains, a denim jacket and a tennis shoe on one foot, but the other was shoeless, wrapped in some kind of bandage. A tall stick leaned near her side.

  He moved closer.

  “Dammit, MacKenzie, pick up, pick up,” she whispered at the phone.

  Sean put a hand on her shoulder. “Jones?”

  She swung her head around and just stopped, the phone in midair, her eyes fixed to his. He winced at the glistening blood in her hair, the smears of it on one side of her face, and the front of her shirt and jacket.

  “Christ, Jones, what happened?”

  The telephone fell from her hand, and she sagged against him. He wrapped his arms around her. “All right, easy now. Easy. I’ve got you.”

  “You’re here.”

  “Right here, Jones.”

  “I never thought I’d be so glad to see you, MacKenzie.”

  “Yeah, go figure.” Sean gathered her up, carried her back to his car, lowered her gently onto the passenger seat. Then he bent over her, pushing her hair away from her face, better to see the gaping cut on her head. “What happened?”

  “Dawn,” she said. “We have to get Dawn.”

  “We will, I promise, we will. But you have to tell me what happened, Jones.”

  She closed her eyes, licked her lips. “It was Mordecai. It had to be.”

  “What was Mordecai?”

  “The car, the black car. He must have followed us. Oh, God, Dawnie.” She started to sob but fought it, and her breath hitched and bucked. It was difficult to make sense of her words. “He…the black car…I tried to swerve…lost control.”

  He thought the injury to her head must be serious enough to be giving her trouble. Her speech was a little slurred, in addition to being broken, and her he
ad kept starting to nod, as if she were going to pass out, but then she snapped it up again.

  “Stay with me, Jones. Come on, tell me what happened. Where is Dawn?”

  “The black car…ran us off the road. I hit my head.” She shook her head slowly, and he could see her searching her mind. “When I woke up, she was gone. She was gone.”

  Sean clasped her shoulders, held her firm and tried to bank the horror rising in his own belly. God, if that son of a bitch had Dawn…He shook the thought away. Jones was probably having enough nightmarish thoughts for the both of them. She didn’t need him having more. “We’ll find her. We’ll get her back.” He glanced back toward the pay phone. “Did you call the police?”

  She lifted her eyes to his. “I called you.”

  “Okay. Okay.” She needed to be in a hospital. “Stay here, all right?” He straightened away from her, but she grabbed his hand, looking panicky. It yanked his heart into a knot, and he knelt again, touched her face. “Relax, Jones. I’m not leaving you—especially not with my keys in the switch. I’m just going to the phone to call the police. It’ll just be a minute.”

  “And then we’ll go after Dawn?” The tears brimming in her eyes were like white-hot blades driven into his soul. This thing between them—it was way beyond what he’d been thinking it was.

  “Yes. Just let me call for help, and then we’ll go find her.”

  She nodded hard. “He—he—he won’t hurt her. He’s…he’s her father.”

  “I know.”

  She let go of his hand. He had trouble dragging his eyes away from her, but he forced himself, ran to the pay phone and dialed 9-1-1, reporting as clearly and concisely as he could that a car had been deliberately run off the road, and that one of the passengers, a sixteen-year-old girl, had been abducted by the other driver. He added a solid description of Dawn, of the black Jag and of the perpetrator; he told them where to find the wrecked car, and that he would be waiting at the nearest hospital if they needed more information. He kept his eyes on Julie the entire time he spoke. She kept hers riveted to him, though they kept falling closed. The 9-1-1 operator insisted he stay on the line. He apologized and hung up on her, then dropped in a few more quarters, and dialed Lieutenant Cassie Jackson’s cell phone number.

  She picked up on the third ring.

  “It’s MacKenzie,” he said. “I’ve got to make this fast, so pay attention. I’m with Julie Jones. She’s been injured and her daughter’s been kidnapped.”

  “What?”

  “Your suspect is Nathan Z.”

  “The TV guru? Why the hell would he want to kidnap Julie Jones’s kid?”

  “It’s complicated, and we’re short on time. He’s driving a late-model black Jaguar. I didn’t get the plate number. He forced Jones off the road, then took Dawn and left.”

  “Where did this happen?”

  “Two hours north of Syracuse.” He repeated the same directions he’d used to get there. “You’ll find us at the nearest hospital, though I have no idea where that will be yet. We’ve already notified the local authorities.”

  “Okay, okay.” He got the feeling she was scribbling notes as he spoke. “Look, this is good. This is enough to activate the Amber Alert System. If they haven’t done it already, I’ll do it myself. You’re sure this is an abduction?”

  He wasn’t. Neither was Julie. But he would gladly take the consequences if he turned out to be wrong. “I’m sure,” he lied.

  “Okay, then. I’m on it. How about Julie Jones? How badly is she hurt?”

  He looked back at the car, realizing he’d become involved in his conversation and had taken his eyes off Julie. She lay limp in the seat, her head slumped to one side, eyes closed. “Shit,” he said, hung up the phone and ran back to the car.

  “Jones? Come on now, snap out of it.”

  She didn’t respond, but she did have a pulse, and she was breathing. He heard the creak of a screen door and turned to see someone coming out of the diner, a man in a red-and-black plaid shirt, and worn jeans.

  “You, mister,” Sean called. “Where’s the nearest hospital?”

  The man frowned, looked from Sean to Julie, then widened his eyes and dug a set of keys from his pocket. “Follow me,” he said. “It’ll be faster. She looks in a bad way.”

  Sean nodded and got behind the wheel as the man in plaid climbed into a pickup truck and made it roar to life. The pickup took off, and Sean followed, his eyes straying from the road to Julie’s still face far too often, even while his mind wondered what poor Dawn was going through right now. God, she must be frightened to death.

  * * *

  Ms. Marcum had been patiently answering all of Lieutenant Jackson’s questions about Dawn and Julie Jones when Jackson’s cell phone rang. The lieutenant frowned and picked it up, then listened as Sean MacKenzie told her the most unlikely tale she’d ever heard in ten years on the force.

  Ms. Marcum rose up from her chair behind her desk, overhearing Cassie’s side of the conversation. She pressed a hand to her chest. “Dawn’s been kidnapped?”

  Cassie gave her a grim nod, then went on with the conversation. It was a damn good thing she knew MacKenzie well enough to doubt he would make any of this up or she never would have believed it. What it did to her case, and her suspicions about Julie Jones, she still wasn’t sure. “Where did this happen?” she asked.

  As she listened to Sean’s reply, she shot a look at the desk that stood between her and the teacher she’d been questioning. Reading that look, Ms. Marcum handed her a pad and a pen, and watched her scribble down a set of driving directions.

  Jackson dropped the pen and tore off the top sheet when she finished writing. “This is enough to activate the Amber Alert System. If they haven’t done it already, I’ll do it myself. You’re sure this is an abduction?” Listening to the reply, she nodded rapidly. “Okay, then. I’m on it. How about Julie Jones? How badly is she hurt?” She waited a moment, then she frowned at the phone. “MacKenzie? Hello?” Swearing softly, she disconnected.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Ms. Marcum asked as Cassie shoved her hair back and turned to go.

  “No. I…” She sighed. “Listen, maybe it would be best not to say too much about this just yet. No more than you see released by the press, anyway. Other than that, Ms. Marcum, the only thing you can really do is wait. And…pray.”

  She walked out of the office, already punching another number onto the keypad of her cell phone, speaking crisply into it as she paused in the hallway outside the door. “I need Amber Alert activated immediately. Here are the details.”

  From the corner of her mind that wasn’t completely distracted, she heard Ms. Marcum on another telephone, saying, “I’m sorry, Principal Slocum, but I need to go home for the rest of the day.”

  * * *

  Dawn stared out the side window at the trees and hills that flew past. She didn’t dare face the man, because her thoughts were racing faster than the scenery, and she was sure they must show in her face.

  She had to get away from him. That much she knew. Sitting quiet and meek and letting him take her where he wanted would only get her into deeper trouble. You didn’t get to be sixteen years old with a mom like hers and not learn things like that. Basic survival skills for “just-in-case” scenarios she’d never believed would happen to her in a million years.

  First and foremost, get away. Never let them take you to the secondary crime scene.

  He was driving too fast for her to jump out of the car without getting herself dead. He’d also locked the doors with the button on his side, and she wasn’t sure she could unlock hers. Besides those things, she was so terrified that even thinking about an escape attempt had her nearly paralyzed. For the first time she understood why girls went with their abductors to isolated places. It was so much harder to fight than it was to just go along and hope for the best.

  He didn’t seem insane, she thought, glancing sideways at him when he wasn’t looking. He didn’t seem dan
gerous. He seemed kind of…sad.

  She lifted a hand to rub the back of her neck.

  He noticed and sent her a searching look. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

  “My neck’s getting a little stiff.”

  “The accident,” he said. He shook his head slowly and then suddenly slapped his hand against the steering wheel, making her jump. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  Frowning, Dawn glanced at him again. She couldn’t seem to resist looking at him when he wasn’t looking back, wondering if what he said could possibly be true—that he was her birth father. She searched for some resemblance in his face but failed to see one.

  She couldn’t seem to meet his eyes at all or to hold his gaze even briefly.

  He was staring at her then, intense and apparently worried. “I was only trying to force Jewel onto the shoulder. She was supposed to pull over and stop, not jerk the wheel and lose control.”

  “I believe you,” Dawn said. “Mom’s a terrible driver. She always has been.”

  He lowered his head, shaking it slowly. “I never meant to hurt you. I would never do anything that would hurt you.”

  That puzzled her, truly puzzled her. “Taking me from my mom hurts me. You must know that.”

  “Jewel is not your mother.”

  She bit back the angry, sarcastic reply that leaped automatically to her lips. It wouldn’t be a good idea to piss him off.

  “Besides,” he said, “the pain of leaving her is pain that comes for a reason. For the greater good. And it’s in keeping with God’s plan for you, Dawn. Jewel…she’ll understand that. In time.”

  She drew a deep breath, forced her words to come out calmly, quietly. “You…keep calling her Jewel.”

  He looked at her, his lips pulling into a very slight smile, a nostalgic one. “That’s the name she used when she came to live with me. Your mother was Lizzie, and your name was Sunshine. I was known as Mordecai back then. Mordecai Young.”

  Dawn almost choked. The name Mordecai Young was as well-known as that of David Koresh. She racked her memory, wished she’d paid more attention in social studies class when they’d covered local history. There had been some kind of compound or something, not all that far away. And a raid that ended in disaster. A lot of people had died. She thought Mordecai Young had been one of them.