by Dawn Atkins
“My mother’s here?”
“Certainly. She missed you both terribly.”
Cara’s blood ran cold. The ground seemed to tilt beneath her. Barrett had an accomplice—her own mother.
“We get to stay at a hotel with a water park,” Beth Ann said, her voice high. “Daddy remembered how much I liked water parks.”
Cara sucked in a breath. “That sounds lovely, but we can’t leave this minute. We need to pack.”
“Cara,” Barrett said in a disapproving tone. “Beth Ann told me you’re packed and now so is she.”
“Daddy said to leave a note for Jonah and Rosie,” Beth Ann chimed in.
Cara’s heart sank. Beth Ann had told him too much. Barrett wanted no witnesses to their kidnapping.
“And I can bring Louis. We’re getting a new house near Grandma Price.”
“In Barstow?” she asked Barrett.
“I said we’d see. Otherwise, I’ve found a lovely home in Sacramento.” He winked at her. He’d lied for Beth Ann’s benefit.
“I get to pick my furniture,” Beth Ann said in a hollow voice.
“So, let’s get your bags and go,” Barrett said. “If we’re late for check-in we’ll lose the lovely casita I booked for us. Bethie, lead the way.”
Beth Ann scooted out of the booth and headed for the stairs, looking back at them nervously. Barrett held Cara by the waist, so they walked side by side, the gun digging into her hip.
Despair washed through her. He’d planned carefully. How could she best him?
You’re strong and brave and relentless, Jonah had said. You gave me hell from the day you walked in here. Jonah had held up a mirror and showed her what she’d become. Dazzling. He’d called her dazzling.
She’d survived a coma, made a life for Beth Ann, managed her difficult mother, started school again and gotten help when they needed to run. She’d found work and a home when their car failed, she’d renovated a café and convinced a scared and stubborn woman to get treated for cancer.
She could beat Barrett Warner at his own game.
She had to. Their lives depended on it.
In twenty minutes they were on the road in Cara’s car minus the trailer—too much trouble to load, according to Barrett. Cara was driving, Barrett at her side, Beth Ann sobbing quietly in the backseat.
“Hey, hey, no more tears.” Barrett turned to look at her. “I promise we’ll get the cat shipped to us.” Beth Ann hadn’t been able to find Louis fast enough to suit Barrett. “Crybabies don’t get to stay in resorts with water slides, now do they?”
Beth Ann wiped her face, gulping for air, her shoulders heaving.
“You’ve spoiled her,” Barrett muttered to Cara. “We’ll have to correct that.” She hated his superior smirk, the way he’d lied to Beth Ann about moving to Barstow, about the cat, about himself.
Cara wanted to slam the brakes and put him through the windshield, but she didn’t dare. Not with the gun at his waist. She would bide her time, watch for her chance to make a call. She had the phone in her pocket and had managed to slip the puzzle box into the sack with the comic books and Bunny, so she had the cord.
Barrett had dictated a note about hating long goodbyes. She hoped to hell Jonah wouldn’t take it at face value. Surely Jonah knew her better than that. Barrett had even insisted she include a smiley face like she used to do in high school.
The fact she’d left the rocking chair she’d sworn to keep forever should tell him something was wrong. She’d also set the bear on end in the middle of the seat. He couldn’t miss that message.
As they drove, Barrett spun a sticky-sweet web around them, talking about the new house, the private school for Beth Ann, couples’ tennis lessons, a less demanding job for him, family fun nights, on and on, until she felt like she was suffocating.
“Nothing matters more than our family,” he continued. “Not hobbies, not classes, not friends, not relatives. We’ll devote more time to each other, not get foolish about our selfish whims, right?” His glance was the lash of a whip.
Barrett’s fury was a ticking clock. He was holding it together now, but soon enough he would explode, punish her, hurt her, possibly kill her. How much time did she have? And how could she be sure Beth Ann stayed safe?
It was hard not to lose hope. Even if Jonah did figure out she was in trouble, he didn’t know where they were headed. He didn’t know Barrett’s name or her last name. The plates she’d put on her mother’s car were from California, but that wasn’t much to go on.
No, she was likely on her own. Maybe that was how it should be.
* * *
JONAH READ CARA’S note again. Long goodbyes are hard. She’d promised to stay until he got back. And a smiley face?
Really?
Rosie sat glumly at the table. “She ran off so she wouldn’t see a grown man cry,” she said, but her feelings were hurt, too. Her first chemotherapy had been less miserable than she’d expected and she wanted to tell Cara. “They didn’t even take Bunny’s bike.”
“The trailer was hitched. All she had to do was throw it in. That makes no sense. What about the chair?” He tromped down the hall and found it sitting there. He wanted to toss it out the window. It had caused nothing but pain in his life.
Then he noticed the bear he’d carved. She’d put it in the chair on purpose. It was a message. That she didn’t need his protection? She’d said he couldn’t rescue her, but this was a pretty harsh way to make the point.
Maybe she meant it hurt too much to keep it.
So say so in the note, dammit. And with a frownie face at least.
He tromped back down the hall.
“It’s too quiet around here,” Rosie said. “Maybe I need a boarder. You’ll be gone soon, too.”
“Not for a while.” Not until her treatments were over. The furniture show had gone great. He’d sold most of his pieces and the deal with the manufacturer was percolating. He’d even checked out a couple apartments, thinking about Cara and Beth Ann the whole time.
“I’m going down to check the kitchen,” he said.
It was a mess. The back of Jonah’s neck began to prickle. This was not like Cara. There were even trays of buns waiting to be bagged. She’d worked hard to make sure the café would run smoothly without her. She would have cleaned up after Evan, no question.
That wasn’t like her.
None of this was like her. Not the lame note, the smiley face, the abandoned gifts. What had she said about the chair? I’ll keep it forever.
She wasn’t rejecting his help. She was asking for it. She was in trouble. Had her ex-husband found them? Kidnapped them?
Jonah dialed Evan, who’d been the last person to see them today.
Evan told him Cara had gone to Tucson to meet with a bakery about selling her buns, returning a little over two hours ago. They hadn’t talked. Evan had been in a hurry.
“Did she seem rushed? Or scared? Was she alone?”
“She seemed tired, not rushed,” Evan said. “What’s going on, Jonah?”
“I’m afraid something’s happened.” He took a deep breath. “Her ex-husband just got out of prison for trying to kill her. She’s afraid he’s after her.”
“Is that why she was freaked out about the good-luck buns story?”
“Yeah. I’m afraid he’s kidnapped them.”
“How did he find them?”
“I have no idea. That bakery visit seems odd. On a Sunday?”
; “They called her yesterday. Word’s getting around about the buns. In fact, I expected a reporter from World Traveler Magazine to show up here by now. He called and got a lot of background from me.”
“A reporter?”
“Don’t worry. I told him the baker wouldn’t talk to him. He didn’t care. He said he’d cover how fame affects a small town. He asked for a hotel, so I gave him the Sleep Inn’s number.”
Jonah went on full alert. “Did you verify who he was?”
“No. He sounded legit. You think he was her ex?”
“Maybe.”
“He asked a lot of detailed questions about the café. Jesus. If it was him, I helped the guy. Lee Schmidt was his name. My laptop’s on. Let me check.” Computer keys clicked. “I’m on the site. Checking… Jesus Christ. There’s a Lee Schmidt, all right. Picture’s right here. It’s a woman.”
“Damn.” Electricity shot through him. Cara had been right to be afraid. “I need to call the sheriff’s office. Hell, I don’t know the guy’s name or Cara’s real last name. I’ll get the plate number from Rusty. California tags, so that’s probably where he came from.”
“If he was here, he stayed at the Sleep Inn. I know a couple clerks. I’ll find out and get back to you.”
“Okay.” He made the calls to Rusty and the sheriff’s office, but Cara’s car was a nondescript white sedan and unless they were speeding, the Highway Patrol was unlikely to catch them.
Dammit. Cara and Beth Ann could be terrified hostages on the highway somewhere right now. The man had nearly killed Cara before. What if he wanted to finish the job? Jonah’s gut clenched.
He went out to the café porch to pace, while he waited to hear from Evan. They could have been gone for almost two hours. That’s a lot of highway miles. Every second took them farther away. Jonah was about to get in his truck and start driving, when his brother pulled up and ran up the steps to him.
“They came in a rental, California plates, and stayed three nights. White car. I got the plate number.”
“They?”
“Yeah. There were two of them. A middle-aged blonde named Deborah Price checked them into a suite and got two keys. A much younger guy joined her each night, using the back entrance. The maid thought it was creepy, like he was a gigolo.”
“We need to call the sheriff’s office with the rental car plates,” Jonah said.
“Already did.”
“I’m going after them.”
“That’s crazy. They have two cars. They could split up. California is a big-ass state, Jonah.”
He stared at his brother. “I have to do something. I’m losing it.” He ran his fingers through his hair, wanting to jump out of his skin.
“I can see that. Let’s go in and talk this through. Maybe you know more than you think you do. I’m friends with one of the dispatchers. She’ll feed us any information they get, like where they rented the car. That’s likely where they’ll head from here.”
“Okay. Maybe you’re right.” Jonah blew out a breath. He needed to know more before he took off.
Inside, Evan said, “You eaten anything?”
“Not really.”
“I’ll fry you some eggs.” He went into the kitchen.
Food would help, too. “Keep the burner low and use plenty of—”
Evan turned to him.
“Right. You know how to fry an egg. Sorry. Weren’t you working?”
“I told Carlos I had a family emergency.” He slapped down butter and grabbed eggs. “I’m sick to death I helped the guy. Me and my big, damn mouth.”
“If it weren’t for your big damn mouth, we wouldn’t know as much as we do. You talk to people. That’s a good thing. I’m the one who screwed up. Cara kept telling me the guy was capable of anything, but I treated her like she was crazy. I should have stayed here, watched out for her.”
“You couldn’t know any more than I could. Forget laying blame. Let’s figure this out. The guy was in prison in California, right?”
“That would be my guess, yeah.”
“I bet there was plenty of news coverage of his trial. Newspapers subscribe to fancy clipping services. Call the New Hope News and ask for Tina. She’ll search the archives with whatever keywords you can come up with.”
“Someone else you dated?”
“What can I say?”
Jonah grabbed the newspaper from the rack and located the number. “At least it’s a place to start,” he said. “Thanks, Ev.”
“I’ve got your back. You always have mine.”
Evan was acting as big brother at the moment and Jonah needed that. If Cara hadn’t helped him see Evan with new eyes, that might not have been possible.
When he found her, he would thank her.
And he would find her. Or die trying.
* * *
WHEN BARRETT GOT out of the car to pump gas, Cara slipped the cell phone from her pocket, her heart in her throat. She smiled through the windshield at him, powering up the phone without looking.
She’d wanted to warn Beth Ann to be ready to run, but Barrett had sent her with Deborah to buy snacks.
When Barrett turned to put the nozzle into the tank, Cara looked at the phone. The battery was scary low. She pushed 9, then 1, then stopped. If police descended, sirens blaring, Barrett might pull his gun and they’d become hostages. That would be a disaster.
The rescue had to be controlled. She punched in Jonah’s cell number. She would give him the basics and he would call the police.
Hurry, hurry, answer. Barrett was pulling the nozzle from the car. She had a few seconds while he put in his card and paid.
“Hello?” Jonah said.
She wanted to weep with relief, but she spoke quickly, the words bursting like bullets from her mouth. “We’ve been kidnapped by Barrett Warner. He has a handgun. We’re headed to a resort, probably Tucson. My mom’s following us in a rental car. The resort has a water slide. We’re in my car.”
“We’ve got the plate numbers.”
“You figured out my message.”
“Absolutely.”
Barrett started to turn toward her, but Beth Ann ran up to him, holding out candy, buying Cara more time.
“Call the police, but no sirens. Whatever we do has to be quiet, so Barrett doesn’t panic and Beth Ann doesn’t get hurt or scared.”
“We’ll get you out of there. Don’t worry.”
“I’m powering off the phone. Leave a message with the plan. I’ll call when I can.” She slid the phone into her purse just as Barrett opened his door. “Bethie remembered I like red licorice,” Barrett crowed, waving a piece.
“I got your favorite, too,” Beth Ann said from the backseat, setting a Heath bar on the console. “Are you mad at me?” she asked plaintively.
“Of course not,” Barrett snapped. “She couldn’t be mad at a girl who wants the best for her family, could she?” He shot Cara a look.
“It’ll be okay,” Cara said to Beth Ann, who looked dazed and jittery. “I promise.” Cara had to get her alone and tell her what was going on so she wouldn’t freeze at the crucial moment.
Meanwhile, Barrett gnawed on the licorice whip, content as a child. He thought they were a happy family making a fresh start.
That was his weakness. She would use it, wait for him to let down his guard and then escape. It sounded much easier than she feared it would be.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CARA FIGURED A busy resort would o
ffer many chances to escape.
Not so. Barrett sent her mother to register so all they had was a short walk to the secluded casita. Not a soul saw them.
The casita was roomy, with a full kitchen and a separate bedroom.
“You and I will share the foldout, Beth Ann,” Cara’s mother said, “so your mom and dad can have their privacy. We’ll have a slumber party, you and I!”
“Sounds perfect,” Barrett said. Cara’s heart sank. Alone in a bedroom with Barrett. She couldn’t bear for him to touch her. She had to escape before then.
“I have an idea,” Barrett said. “Why don’t you and Grandma check out the water park, Bethie, while Cara and I catch up.” He winked at Cara.
He wasn’t waiting for bedtime.
Cara’s blood ran cold. She’d come too far to endure that horror. “Let’s all go,” Cara said. “Let’s get our suits on, Beth Ann.” In the bathroom, they could talk and Cara could check for messages, maybe make a call.
She started for the bags, but Barrett caught her arm. “After supper we’ll all go. You and I will stay here.” There was steel in his voice.
Beth Ann’s eyes shot to Cara, who managed a smile. “All right.”
“We’ll scope out the fun parts,” Cara’s mother said. “Get your suit.”
Beth Ann did as she’d been told, but she was clearly nervous. When they were gone, Barrett drew Cara to the sofa. “Isn’t this better?”
It couldn’t be much worse. She was alone with the man who’d tried to kill her. She couldn’t help trembling.
“Quit that,” he snapped. “There is no need for hysteria. I love you. I would never hurt you.” He seemed to calm himself and continued in a more wistful tone. “Every night in prison, I dreamed of us in bed the way we used to be. You were so sweet to me. Remember?”
She had to handle him carefully. She had to be loving but firm. “A lot has happened since then. With my condition, you must realize that I need time to trust you again.”
“I’ve waited three long years, Cara.” His eyes burned at her.
