BRINGING BENJY HOME

by Kylie Brant

  Jaida caught her breath sharply, and the familiar pain started in her temples, the muscles in her back and neck knotting painfully. Aching tendrils radiated across her back and shoulders. She squeezed her eyes more tightly closed, blocking out the pain, beckoning more of the scene to unfold.

  The woman turned back toward the room, letting the curtain fall into place. A child's cry split the night. Jaida trembled, feeling the boy's fear and loneliness. Her empathetic reaction to Benjy's plight made her head ache unbearably, until the images began to blur and fade, leaving only the hammering at her temples in their wake.

  "Did you see anything?"

  Lauren's anxious voice sounded as though it were coming from a great distance. Jaida opened eyelids that seemed weighted, and even that small motion was enough to turn the pain into a snarling beast.

  Blinking several times, Jaida brought the room into focus. Lauren's face was a contradiction of hope and despair. Trey was watching her, openly sardonic. "I saw a little boy," she said, her voice sounding rusty. "He has dark hair and…" Her breath shuddered with aftershocks. "And his uncle's chin."

  "Benjy." Lauren's voice was a reverent whisper. Her hands went to her brother's shoulders, and her fingers clenched there. "Oh, my Lord, it's Benjy. She can help us, Trey. I knew it. I knew it."

  "Slow down, Lauren." His voice was soothing. "This doesn't really prove anything."

  "Doesn't prove anything?" Lauren's voice was incredulous. "It proves everything—everything I told you. You have to let her help, Trey. You have to." Several moments ticked by. Then Lauren looked away. "Would you help me back to my room, Trey?" she asked weakly.

  He sprang immediately to his feet and helped her rise. "You never should have gotten up in the first place," he scolded her. "This was too much for you."

  She declined to argue, leaning against him until he settled her in her bedroom. She reached for his hand, preventing his departure. "Stay, please."

  He sat on the side of the bed. "You should take one of the sedatives the doctor ordered."

  She made a face. "I don't need a sedative. I need to talk to you."

  "Take the pill first," he replied firmly.

  Lauren's lips tightened and then she gave an exasperated sigh. "Trey Garrison, you'd bargain with the devil himself."

  He smiled slightly. "Only about the living arrangements." He welcomed the return of Lauren's strong will. For too many days she'd lain listless and unresponsive, scaring him half to death with the alteration in her personality. She might be more difficult to handle when she regained her stubbornness, but it was a welcome change nonetheless.

  She snatched the pill, downed it with the water and raised her eyebrows. "Satisfied?"

  "Yes," he responded imperturbably.

  Lauren's gaze dropped, but she didn't relinquish his hand. He waited, knowing she wouldn't rest until she'd had her say. But he wasn't prepared for the subject she broached.

  "It's funny what we remember from our childhoods. I don't have any memory of our mother at all, and what I remember of Dad…" She shrugged. "Isn't pleasant. But though I was only three when we were removed from our home, my strongest memory is of you." Her voice grew softer. "Only of you." When she looked at him again, her eyes were filled with tears. "You were my hero then and that hasn't changed. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come back into my life when you did."

  "Don't, Lauren," he said dismissively. It wasn't her emotion he shied away from, but the patent untruth of her words. He was nobody's hero. Benjy's disappearance was proof of that.

  "You have to accept the fact that you aren't responsible for the whole world, Trey. Benjy's kidnapping wasn't your fault. Stop heaping blame on yourself for things you have no control over."

  He returned her look steadily. "I never wanted to be responsible for the whole world, Lauren. Just our little part of it."

  She sighed, fighting a losing battle with the medication, her muscles relaxing as they succumbed to sleep. "I have to believe that Benjy will come back to us," she whispered. "And I have greater faith in you and your efforts than I do in those of the police. I think you can find him, Trey, just as you found me." Her voice was beginning to slow. "I want you to promise me something."

  "You need to rest…"

  "No!" Her objection was not above a murmur, but its lack of volume didn't affect its intensity. "Not … until … you promise."

  "All right." He took her hand in both of his and held it comfortingly.

  "Promise … you'll let Jaida … help you." She saw the shuttered look come over her brother's face and could have wept with frustration. "Please … for me."

  The minutes crawled by, and still Trey remained silent. Lauren eventually lost the struggle with the medication. When her breathing was deep, he released her limp hand and rose from the bed. But it was several more moments before he left the room.

  * * *

  The headache had increased in intensity until Jaida's head felt ready to shatter. Her eyes burned with strain, and it was an effort to keep them open. She fumbled with her purse, putting it on her lap and opening it. She shook two capsules into her hand and swallowed them dry.

  Sighing, she dropped her purse to the floor. She was dimly aware of Raine's concerned voice, but couldn't summon the energy to concentrate on her words. She let her head rest against the back of the sofa and closed her eyes. Several minutes passed as she waited for the pills to work their magic, but she knew from experience that only sleep could make the headache abate completely. Twelve or fifteen hours of deep, uninterrupted sleep. And she couldn't afford that yet. She still needed all her wits about her to face Trey. She didn't fool herself into thinking he had changed his mind about her. The clamoring ricocheted inside her head, echoing and reechoing until thought was almost impossible. The pain was relentless. As relentless as—

  She opened her eyes. She was not surprised to see Trey standing in the hallway, although he'd made no noise. She surveyed him blurrily, her vision affected by the headache. He moved toward her, and without conscious decision she sat up straight. Despite her less than clear state after the session something inside her gathered all her resources to face him. The realization would have frightened her if she'd been thinking more lucidly.

  He sat down next to her, keeping a careful distance between them. "Your little production earlier put my sister on the verge of hysterics. She isn't a great judge of character at the best of times, but right now she's incapable of being sensible."

  "Meaning she refuses to let you send me packing."

  His jaw tightened at the accuracy of her statement. "She's frantic at the slow progress of this case, and she's clutching at straws."

  "Haven't you forgotten something, Trey?" Raine interjected. "Jaida described Benjy to a tee." She indicated the room around them. "How did she know what he looked like, when you had Mac remove all the pictures of him?"

  "I'm sure Ms. West has a great deal of experience with situations like this. And the resemblance between Lauren and me is pretty startling. She made an educated guess, that's all. But she really didn't tell us anything we didn't already know."

  Jaida blinked rapidly, trying to keep Trey in focus. But her vision refused to cooperate, and his image blurred and doubled. One Trey Garrison was more than enough to handle. The agony in her muscles and inside her head were settling into a howling chorus. She knew from experience that she didn't have much time before the pills she'd taken would have her body sinking into the unconsciousness it demanded. "He's in a motel room, sitting on top of a bed," Jaida said. Thinking was an effort, talking even more so. "There are two people in the room with him. One is a woman."

  "You said there were two people," Raine reminded her. "Was the other a man?"

  Jaida hesitated, sifting through the images that had sped across her mind. "I'm not sure. I think so. All I saw of the second person was a hand pulling Benjy back up on the bed."

  Trey muttered a curse, and his friends looked at him in surprise. "You can'
t possibly believe this, Raine. I'd expect it from Lauren—she's out of her mind with grief. But you're usually more rational."

  Raine's eyes flashed when she replied. "I know that there aren't always rational explanations for human behavior, Trey. I've learned from experience that people do some pretty horrible things, things psychiatrists can't even explain, because those acts aren't rational. Why do you accept the reality of evil in the world and not accept the possibility that there are people who possess powers that science can't completely understand?"

  "It really doesn't matter," Mac soothed his wife. "Even if it's true, it doesn't change anything. We still don't know where Benjy is."

  "Yes, we do," Jaida put in. Her words had captured everyone's attention. "The motel they're at is called Glenview." She recalled the flickering neon light that had shone in the window the woman had stood at. "The 'V' in the vacancy sign is burned out. The road sign out front reads Highway 128."

  * * *

  Chapter 3

  « ^ »

  "This is wonderful!" Raine enthused. Her gaze sought her husband's. "Honey, can't we do something now?"

  Mac was rubbing the back of his neck in consternation. "Do you want me to check this out?" he asked Trey quietly.

  Trey didn't even spare him a glance. His gaze speared through Jaida. "Lady, don't mess with me. You'll be very sorry if you do."

  "For heaven's sake, Trey, she's trying to help," Raine admonished him. "Quit threatening her!"

  The pounding in Jaida's skull had lessened slightly from the effects of the medication, but the resulting drowsiness made it just as difficult to concentrate. "I can't tell you exactly where the motel is, but…"

  "We can get that information ourselves. If—" Trey's voice was loaded with meaning "—it actually exists."

  "I've got Steward manning the office," Mac said, interrupting the silent battle of wills. "Let's call him and get this settled."

  After one last steely look in Jaida's direction, Trey followed his partner out of the room.

  Raine turned to Jaida and let out a sigh. "Sometimes it's hard to tell which of those two men is the most stubborn."

  "They do seem to have a lot in common," Jaida observed wanly.

  Raine's gaze narrowed in concern. "You look ready to pass out. I'm going to make you something to eat and then you may as well get some rest. I'll bring in your luggage and get the guest room ready for you." Not waiting for an answer, she rose and joined the men in the kitchen.

  Jaida sighed, and gave in to the temptation to close her eyes for a minute. Unbeckoned, a picture of Trey formed behind her eyelids. She'd never met a man like him before, one who wielded such tight control over his emotions. The only time that careful mask slipped was when he was talking to his sister. Then one could catch glimpses of the same frustration and anguish that ate at Lauren. He was a hard man, but not a completely unfeeling one. She wondered fuzzily what it would take for the man to show that kind of devotion to someone other than his family.

  * * *

  Four hours later, Trey rubbed a hand across his burning eyes. His system was feeling the effects of an overdose of coffee and too little sleep. "If that damned Steward doesn't call pretty soon, I'm going to the office myself," he muttered bad-temperedly.

  Mac was slouched in a kitchen chair, his booted feet propped on another. He opened one eye at his friend's remark. "He'll phone as soon as he finds something," he said quietly. The house was silent except for the two of them. He'd sent Raine home to bed long ago. Since they'd called the office to give Steward his orders, the phone had remained stubbornly quiet.

  Their company, Security Associates, had expanded greatly in the past few years and, at Trey's insistence, had acquired some of the most sophisticated computer equipment on the market. There was an amazing amount of information to be had by accessing various data banks if the computer operator knew where to look.

  And if, in fact, the information even existed.

  When it finally sounded, the phone didn't even complete its first ring before Trey had it to his ear. After a few crisp questions, Trey hung up. His gaze met Mac's. "Steward found one motel on Highway 128 called Glenview." His tone was grim, his jaw tight. "It's located outside of Boston."

  Mac's face went still. "Boston. Where Lauren's husband lives."

  "If I believed in even a word that came out of Jaida's mouth, I'd be real worried right now," Trey said tersely.

  "If Jaida's on the level—" Mac started.

  "She's not," Trey interrupted.

  "But if she is," Mac continued doggedly, "we'd be almost certain that Penning has finally tracked Lauren down."

  "We still can't be sure that he hasn't." Trey rubbed a hand over his face. "We always knew the jealous bastard wasn't going to just let her disappear without a trace. I've been aware of his efforts to trail her ever since I rescued her from his estate." Although Lauren was using a new last name and Social Security number, those precautions wouldn't deter someone who had unlimited resources at his disposal. Penning had the money and connections needed to conduct a sustained search. And given his insane possessiveness, he was certainly determined enough.

  Mac frowned. "So let's assume for the moment that Penning somehow discovered Lauren had a brother and tracked you both here. You said he was unaware of Lauren's pregnancy before you helped her escape him."

  "Believe me, Benjy's existence would be an unwelcome surprise to him. He always insisted she use birth control. He was so damn jealous he couldn't even stand the thought of sharing her with children. She was terrified when she found out she was pregnant. She was certain he'd force her to have an abortion."

  "She must have been just as scared of what would happen to the child if he was brought up with William Penning for a father," Mac said soberly.

  Trey nodded. It hadn't take Lauren long after her marriage to discover that her husband was an abusive, controlling bully. In the years that followed, however, she'd become convinced that she'd married a monster. By the time her brother had reentered her life, she'd already begun taking steps to escape from Penning. With Trey's help she had done so, and he'd kept her hidden ever since.

  It had been many long months before Lauren had stopped looking over her shoulder. Trey believed that his presence helped her make that transition. And Benjy's birth had given both of them the opportunity to revel in the simple pleasure of being a family again.

  Mac frowned. "Something about this just doesn't add up. If Penning was so desperate to get Lauren back, why wasn't she the one snatched? If he hated the thought of kids so much, why would he have Benjy taken, instead?"

  Trey didn't answer right away. That terrible rage was back, the one that threatened to encompass him each time he thought of the unknown persons responsible for snatching his young nephew away. If he focused on that emotion, however, he'd never be of any use in securing Benjy's return. He firmly slammed the mental door on that unproductive feeling and was left only with the now-familiar lingering sense of guilt.

  His voice, when he replied, was clipped. "Who knows? He could be punishing Lauren, taunting her, putting her through a little agony before he uses Benjy to force her to come back to him."

  "But the Feds have been keeping Penning under surveillance, right? And they've had nothing to report so far."

  Trey shook his head. "That doesn't necessarily mean anything, though. Only that if Penning is involved, he hasn't been stupid enough to take Benjy to his own home." So far the Bureau had come up with no more than had the LAPD detective assigned to the case. Trey wondered cynically whether the Bureau would have been so interested in the kidnapping if it hadn't been for the identity of Benjy's father. The Feds must have jumped at the chance of catching Penning involved in something, anything they could manage to pin on him. William's law practice made millions a year defending men affiliated with one of the East Coast's most powerful mob families. Too many times he'd destroyed the cases of federal prosecutors, using highly questionable tactics to win acquittals for his
clients. He'd been investigated himself on occasion, suspected of jury tampering.

  Unconsciously, his fingers curled into fists. Trey had never intended to keep Lauren hidden away indefinitely. She deserved complete freedom, and only a divorce would accomplish that. But each time Trey had broached the subject with his sister, she'd become so overwrought that he'd always backed off. Her extreme fear of her husband was more than justified, he knew. People who crossed the man usually wound up missing or dead.

  "If Penning is behind this," Mac said, "why haven't we heard from him? If his motive is to get Lauren back, he'd have to make a contact, right? The man has already waited almost ten days. That doesn't sound like someone with a bargaining chip to use."

  One of Trey's fists came down on the tabletop, punctuating his words. "Hell, who can predict how that sick bastard's mind works? And why are we bothering to try? We still don't have any proof that he's the one behind this."

  "Proof, no. But if you believe Jaida…"

  "Believe a whacked-out hillbilly professing psychic powers?" Trey scoffed. "I'm growing desperate, buddy, but not that desperate. Oh, she's good, I'll grant her that. She's got Lauren dazzled with her lucky description of Benjy, but there's no way she's going to convince me she can hold on to a stuffed elephant and see across the country. No, she probably just described a motel she once stayed at, which just happens to be close to Boston. God." He raked his fingers impatiently through his hair. "If her 'help' has this effect on us, just think how it would affect Lauren."

  Mac considered his words. "So what's our next move?"

  "Next?" Trey pulled the phone toward him. Lifting the receiver, he started punching out a number. "Next we put the police to work. I'm calling Detective Reynolds and telling him of the 'anonymous tip' we received that Benjy was sighted at Glenview Motel, Highway 128, outside of Boston." He broke off when someone answered at the other end of the line. The detective didn't sound pleased to be awakened at that hour, nor did he put much stock in the "tip." Trey remained smooth and unruffled—and totally insistent. When he hung up, a slight smile of satisfaction curled his mouth.