“I did,” Doug said. “Last night, when someone called, we discovered a glitch in the system. It’ll work now.”
Shannen’s heart skipped a beat. “I didn’t hear the phone ring. I turned the bell off on my extension when Nicholas used to sleep in my room and never switched it back on. Was it—” Norton, she thought, unable to complete the question aloud. Apprehension threatened her air supply.
“The caller was Jonathen Peterson,” Doug stated flatly. “Said he’d call back today.”
Shannen grimaced. Rhone didn’t look up, but she saw the nearly imperceptible tightening of his shoulders.
Nodding, alternately relieved and disappointed, she crossed to the kitchen window. Saw the abandoned pile of yellow trucks just beyond the deck.
Grief washed over her anew.
Compelled by reasons she didn’t explain, she grabbed a jacket from the hook by the back door.
Outside, she picked up one of the trucks and absently turned a wheel.
She heard Brian’s approach and looked up.
“Nicky’s?”
“His favorite. They all look pretty much the same to me.” Her smile was false. To mask the building crest of tears, she focused outward, when all she really wanted to do was crawl inside herself where she could never be hurt again. “Do I sense a tad of animosity between you and my husband, or is it my imagination?”
“Maybe a bit of both. Rhone was one of my instructors at the academy. I was younger, stupid and a cocky son of a gun. He pushed and prodded me to the outer limits of my endurance. I wanted to quit but he wouldn’t let me. He said he did it because he saw better-than-average potential. I figure I owe Rhone a lot. I hate to think where I might have ended up if he’d let me quit.”
“He does tend to have that ability to push one to his limit.”
“Yes, ma’am, I reckon you’d know all about that.” Brian grinned. “I better finish my perimeter search, then I think I’ll turn in for some shut-eye.”
Alone and at a loss, Shannen walked, no particular destination in mind. At one point, she noticed Rhone near the motor homes, talking to the group of men who resided in them. She continued on, keeping the house in sight.
“Shannen, you okay?”
Without turning, she recognized the hint of a drawl that defined Doug’s voice. She glanced around. He was alone.
“Yes. No,” she answered, then shrugged, knowing he understood.
He stepped closer. Wrapping one arm around her shoulders, he squeezed, the pressure telling her he was as affected by all that had happened as any special friend or close relative could be.
Shannen knew Doug was in possession of both sides of her and Rhone’s story. She’d told Doug everything the day she left New York—left Rhone. Common sense told her Rhone would have done the same, sooner or later.
“You never took sides,” Shannen said. “Or criticized me.”
“Quickest way I know to lose people you care about is to betray them. Not my style.”
She raised her glance to Doug’s. “I’m glad, because Rhone and I desperately need you now.”
“There’s no place I’d rather be. Keep the faith, Shannen. Believe me when I say it’s the only thing you can count on to keep you strong, to get you through.”
How like Doug not to make promises, but, too, how like him to share the source of his own strength.
“You would know,” she said. She offered a heartfelt smile. She gave him a brief hug, then turned, heading back into the house.
Morning eased into afternoon much too slowly to suit her. She’d tried to absorb herself in a book, a mystery she’d started several days ago. Initially, it had captured her interest. Now the plot seemed ridiculously tame compared to the reality she was living. Besides, the sound of footsteps coming and going made it impossible to concentrate.
Shannen envied the men who seemed to have something to occupy them while all she had were her tormented thoughts. She tried, repeatedly, to take Doug’s advice. Continually she failed.
Finding her own company less than desirable, she wandered aimlessly through the house, urging the minutes to pass more quickly.
At the entrance to the living room, she poked her head in. A quick glance confirmed it was empty. Where was everyone?
Restless, she entered the room. She straightened a stack of magazines and fiddled with a dried-flower arrangement. She paused, her gaze resting on the coffee table. Had it only been the day before yesterday Nicky had used the glass-top table for balance while he mastered coordinating his first steps? It seemed like a lifetime ago.
A lump, large and painful, formed in Shannen’s throat. Looking upward, her eyes blurred. Dear God, when will this nightmare end? “I don’t think I can take—”
A loud ringing interrupted the spoken thought.
The telephone! Instantly, her mind keyed in on the one person she feared hearing from. At the same time, she prayed the caller was Norton. Frantic, Shannen glanced around. She nudged the box that sat adjacent to the phone, looking for a button—something to activate the monitor. Hearing the third ring, she panicked, not knowing what to do. Her hand shook as it touched the receiver, fingers reaching around to grip the hard plastic. As she lifted it, she heard the pounding of footsteps crossing the porch, heard a shouted command to wait, but it was too late.
“Hello?”
“You want to see your kid alive again, make sure you and me are the only ones listenin’ to this conversation.”
Praying for the strength to pull it off, to be convincing, Shannen waved at the men who stormed into the room. “Jon,” she said, feigning a warm friendly tone. “Doug mentioned you called. I’m sorry I couldn’t talk just then. I wasn’t feeling well.”
On the other end of the line, Shannen heard the taunting laughter and felt a cold shiver race along her spine.
Doug left to go back outside, but she noticed Rhone didn’t share the same respect for her privacy. Tension emanated from him as he stood near the window, his back straight, stance rigid.
“That’s it. Talk to me like I’m your boyfriend. Is Rhone there? Is he listenin’?”
Acid stung Shannen’s throat. She swallowed hard. “Yes, I’m feeling better, thank you.”
Again, taunting laughter. “Say somethin’ sweet to me, Mrs. Mitchell.”
She turned her back to Rhone. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite hear you.”
“You got a hearin’ problem, do ya?” He gave a cruel laugh. “Maybe this will help improve your listenin’ abilities.”
Shannen heard a rustling as Norton adjusted his receiver.
“Maa-Maa?” Nicholas whimpered into her ear. “Maa-Maa...”
She gasped. Her heart and her mind screamed to reassure her baby she was there. She said nothing. She couldn’t with Rhone only a few feet away. She squeezed her eyes closed against tears she couldn’t allow to fall. Her fingers shook uncontrollably as she covered her mouth to contain the agonizing terror that threatened to spill forth.
“Follow my instructions to the letter. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“First. Talk to me.” He laughed. “And ya’d better make it sound convincin’.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. That she had no choice but to listen and follow his instructions sickened her. Why wouldn’t Rhone leave the room? Desperately, she didn’t want him to overhear, to misinterpret what she knew would destroy the fragile bond between them.
“I’m gonna count to three, Mrs. Mitchell. Speak up or ya lose.”
The idea of saying the words to Norton was more than she could manage. Shannen turned around, her glance resting on her husband. When she spoke, with all her heart, she directed the words to Rhone, even though she knew he wouldn’t understand. “Yes, you know I love you. Always have.” Rhone turned on his heel to face her, his incredulous expression giving way to pure disgust. Shannen’s heart twisted as she watched his angry stride carry him toward the door.
“I’ve heard better. Whaddas Mitchell
think?”
She heard the door slam behind Rhone. Something inside her snapped. “Gee, I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?” Immediately she bit her tongue.
“Maybe I will.” Norton cackled. “Instruction number two. Now listen real careful. Meet me by the river to the south of the meadow on your property at sundown. Alone. If you’re not alone, if you set me up or you’re not there, I promise, you’ll never see your kid again.”
To Shannen’s relief, she heard a dial tone. Weak and shaky, she replaced the receiver. How could she get away without Brian or Doug accompanying her? Rhone wouldn’t be wanting anything to do with her, and the more distance he could put between them, the better. No, he would pass the duty of watching over her to someone else.
Anger, all consuming, shook her to the core. The lives of her family and friends, her happiness, her future—all stood to be destroyed at the whim of one very psychotic individual. She’d settle for just half a chance to even the score, to take him down herself.
Fury made her nerves tingle as she ran upstairs. Unconcerned that she’d get caught, she went straight to Rhone’s room. On the closet shelf, she removed the box that contained the .22 and a box of bullets. Target practice seemed a good way to pass some time until her meeting with Norton. It also seemed a good way to vent some of her anger. She had no intention of taking the gun with her, but only because she had no clue as to what Norton’s plans were. If, on the off chance, Nicky were with Norton, she couldn’t risk her son getting hurt. Certainly not by her hand.
Arms full, Shannen turned toward the doorway. Rhone blocked her exit.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
“Target practicing.”
“Really? Or were you planning to shoot me while I sleep so you can pick up where you and your lover left off before I arrived? Just friends, huh?” His tone venomous, Rhone shook his head when she didn’t answer. “You’re a fine piece of work, you know that?”
“It’s not like what you think.” She couldn’t help defending herself.
Rhone walked forward, not stopping until he was inches away, his eyes daring her to retreat. “Tell me, Shannen. What is it like?”
Logic told her he was hurting, but all she heard was an echo of the tone Norton had used when he’d demanded she say something suggestive. Gritting her teeth, she juggled her load and raised her hand.
The sound of Rhone’s palm slapping against her wrist reverberated through the room. His fingers gripped, applying pressure that made her wince.
“Who the hell was I thinking of when I gave credit to you for saving my life in Colombia? You don’t even come close to measuring up to the heroine of my dreams. Whatever there was between us, babe, you’ve long since destroyed. You can have your divorce. I don’t want you. However, I do want Nicholas. I will fight you for custody, and I will win.”
“No! Rhone, listen—”
“You listen. The next time you make a mistake like the one you made downstairs, I swear I’ll put you behind lock and key.”
Shannen frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“You could have compromised our son’s life had that been Norton on the phone. We can’t afford a single missed opportunity to trace his whereabouts. That monitor could be Nicholas’s only chance at freedom.”
Toe-to-toe, Shannen glared up at him. If he only knew the truth, she thought. “Then why didn’t you leave someone stationed near it? My God, Rhone, I had no idea where anyone was. I’m not a mind reader.”
Nevertheless, she saw the accusal in his eyes and pain at what he believed was betrayal. She ached to explain, but couldn’t. To do so would compromise their son’s safety.
Rhone cursed on a sigh. “Well, as it turns out, it doesn’t matter, does it? Since the call was from your friend.” He flung her wrist aside like a piece of dirty laundry. “Now, get out. I need to sleep.”
Downstairs, Shannen barely glimpsed the puzzled expressions on Doug and Brian’s faces. When Doug saw what she held, he moved toward her.
“I want to be alone,” she told him, her voice tight and thick. “Don’t worry.” She gave a bitter laugh. “I promise I won’t shoot anything I’m not supposed to.”
After several seconds of thoughtful deliberation, Doug let her go. Grabbing the bag of empty cans by the back door, she headed behind the house to the tree stump that Rhone had used before.
Carefully she set her target, then paced her distance. As though she’d been doing it all her life, she loaded the gun with calm efficiency. Assuming the stance she’d been taught, she raised the weapon. Sighting the first can, she released the safety and paused. Her lips twitched as she remembered the room Rhone was in faced the back of the house.
Shannen pulled the trigger. Her body flinched, the sharp crack sounding more like an explosion. Her ears rang in protest, but she didn’t care as she watched her target fly into the trees.
“Wear your earplugs,” Rhone hollered down.
She glowered over her shoulder. “I’ll just bet you take the time to put yours in before you shoot the bad guys.”
“You’re not shooting bad guys.”
“That’s what you think,” she muttered, turning back around. Her jaw tightened, eyes narrowed as pure hatred coursed through her. Aligning her aim, Shannen envisioned the devil’s own son, heard the repetition of Norton’s taunting and cruel words.
She pulled back the trigger and, with amazing accuracy, struck her target again. And again.
* * *
How he’d managed to sleep through Shannen’s racket was beyond him. With drowsy awareness, Rhone knew it was the silence that had eventually awakened him. That and daylight fading to dusk.
He swung booted feet over the edge of the bed and sat up. Yawning, Rhone glanced at the bedside clock.
Norton ought to be calling soon.
As if on cue, the phone rang.
Rhone ran downstairs to the living room. At Doug’s gesture, Brian picked up the phone.
“Hold on,” he said into the mouthpiece. Brian glanced up at Rhone. “Where’s Shannen?”
“How the hell should I know?” he bellowed. “You were supposed to be keeping an eye on her.”
“Dr. Peterson, I’ll have to have Shannen return—”
Rhone grabbed the phone from Brian’s hand. “Peterson, didn’t I make it clear I want you the hell out of my wife’s life? Let me spell it out for you. I don’t like you calling last night, or earlier today. Or right now. And if you don’t stop calling, I’m going to come over there and wrap the cord around your— What did you say?”
He listened, mumbled incoherently and dropped the receiver back into its cradle. Rhone’s glance sought Doug.
In seconds, Doug was at Rhone’s side. “The phone call Shannen had earlier—it wasn’t Peterson, was it?”
“No.” Rhone buckled his holster.
After checking the rest of the house, Brian returned to the living room. He gave a negative shake of his head.
“I heard the back door open and close—” Doug paused, checking his watch “—about forty-five minutes ago. I’m as much at fault as the kid. I thought Shannen had come back in.”
“She brought the gun in. It’s lying on the kitchen table,” Brian said.
Thank God she hadn’t taken it with her. Rhone hated to imagine what happened to so many women happening to Shannen. Easily overpowered in an armed confrontation, their weapons were often used against them. It’d been the main reason he’d thought twice about teaching her to shoot, but had decided the advantages outweighed the negatives.
“I talked to Cox,” Brian added. “Neither he nor his men saw Shannen leave. They’re waiting outside for your orders.”
Rhone gave a terse nod. “Stay here in case there’s any more calls or Shannen comes back. If she does, we’re on the air,” Rhone told Brian, reaching for the hand-held radio.
Chapter 10
Fear made Shannen’s blood run icy.
Not for the first time, she ber
ated herself for being every kind of fool. Why had she done this?
Because you’ve heard enough about Jimmy Norton to know he’d kill your son without thinking twice if you brought Rhone.
It was a risk she couldn’t afford to take. Wouldn’t take.
No matter what danger she exposed herself to.
Shadows lengthened as she moved deeper into the woods. The acres of trees had been the first thing that attracted her to the property. Now, for as many times in as many days, she regretted them. She could barely see in front of her and every noise made her jump.
Suddenly she wished she’d said something to Rhone. When she stole away from the house, he’d been asleep. Doug and Brian had been talking in the front room. She’d had to take her chances that none of the men staying in the trailers saw her. She’d done her best to keep the house and trees between herself and their line of vision. Though, if they had at their disposal a portion of the high-tech equipment that Rhone did, she doubted she’d escaped unnoticed. Admittedly, she hoped not. Otherwise she had no idea how long it would be until she was missed.
By then she could be dead.
She dug her hands deep into her jeans pockets. Norton had said to meet him at sundown. As she made her way to the meeting place near the creek, as Norton ordered, the way became more treacherous.
For balance, she pulled her hands from her pockets. Her heart thundered with panic and anticipation. In a few minutes, maybe she would see her baby again and could reassure herself he was all right.
As she carefully walked over the twisted, rotting timber and decaying vegetation, she strained to hear. Nothing. Nothing except the usual chirps of birds and chatter of squirrels and chipmunks. From overhead, she heard the drone of an airplane.
Odd that for some, today was an ordinary day. People got out of bed, went to work and were now having dinner with their families. Shannen, on the other hand, prayed both she and her son lived another day.
An involuntary shiver shimmied the length of her spine. Even if she survived Jimmy Norton, she still had to face Rhone.
She arrived near the clearing Norton dictated. It made her ill to think the man had been on her property long enough to know it so well. Just how long had he been lurking? Watching? Obviously, when he’d abducted Nicky, he hadn’t gone far. The man probably got his kicks from hiding right under everyone’s noses.
All I Need Page 12
