“Fenrow’s out of prison,” she said. “He broke out.”
“What do you mean, broke out?” Graham nearly shouted.
“Shhh! You’ll wake the girls.”
“Did Larry say how it happened? Are you sure this isn’t some practical New Year’s Eve joke? He’s not drunk, is he?”
“He didn’t sound like it. He told me someone sneaked the man past the guards. He’s thinking about joining us in Hawaii for protective surveillance.”
“How could the guards have allowed Fenrow to slip past them?” Graham asked. “What could they have been thinking? Rick Fenrow, of all people!”
Lucy heard the name clearly. She knew it well. Even though no one would tell her exactly how Mama was killed, Lucy knew, because she’d heard them talking. That man, that Rick Fenrow, was in jail because he killed Mama and tried to kill Willow.
Leaning her forehead against the smooth wood of the hallway wall, Lucy thought she was going to throw up. They were talking about a murderer! And he was out of prison?
“I told Larry you would probably call him back,” Aunt Ginger said.
Graham sighed, and there was a long silence. “Larry’s presence in Hawaii will put a damper on the whole celebration.”
“Isn’t it better than the alternative?” Aunt Ginger asked.
“We don’t need a reminder about what happened last year. Fenrow surely can’t follow us to Hawaii.”
“And yet, we don’t need to take chances with our lives,” Aunt Ginger said. “You know how vindictive Fenrow can be. The man’s crazy, Graham, and Larry knew we were going to Hawaii tomorrow, though no one told him. If Larry can find out, so can Fenrow.”
Lucy swallowed hard. Last year, Rick Fenrow had set fire to the cabin where Willow was staying with her brother, Preston. Rick Fenrow was evil and wicked, and evil people always wanted to hurt and kill.
“He killed Sandi Jameson to keep her from talking to Willow,” Aunt Ginger said. “You know what he’s capable of. We have to think of the children. And Willow. They need protection. We all do.”
“Larry wasn’t able to protect Sandi last year.” Graham’s voice sounded louder and closer. He’d gotten out of bed.
“You didn’t hire him to protect her,” Aunt Ginger said. “You hired him to protect Willow.”
“He didn’t even do a good job of that.”
“She’s alive, isn’t she?” Aunt Ginger said. “Maybe he would have had more luck if Willow had cooperated and told him about the situation before she went barging into it.”
Lucy scowled at this criticism against her soon-to-be new mother.
“He knows what to expect now,” Aunt Ginger said. “So do the rest of us.”
“Fenrow’s always been a loose cannon,” Graham grumbled. “What makes you think we can predict his actions any more this year than we did last year?”
“Maybe this is one of those times we need to have some faith,” Aunt Ginger said. “We all believe you and Willow and the girls were meant to become a family. If that was God’s intent, then it will happen. So maybe you need to have some faith that He will be your protector. However, we can take some steps to protect ourselves.”
While Aunt Ginger kept preaching to Graham—that’s what Mama would have called it—Lucy tiptoed back to her bedroom and slipped through the doorway.
A soft, trembling whisper from the darkness reached her. “Sissy?”
Lucy gasped, nearly wetting her pants. Brittany stood like a ghost just inside the door, clutching Chuckles by an ear, sucking the fingers of her other hand.
“What are you doing up?” Lucy snapped at her.
Brittany took the fingers out of her mouth. “You left! I s-scared! I woke up and…and…you—”
“Okay. It’s okay now.” Lucy put an arm around Brittany’s shoulders, feeling bad for snapping. Brittany had outgrown baby talk most of the time, except when she was scared, then she forgot. Sometimes she still sucked her fingers.
“Be quiet and get back to bed.” Lucy took Brittany by the shoulders and nudged her in the direction of her own bed.
“Can I…can I sleep with you some more?”
“Not if you’re going to keep getting up and scaring me like this.”
“But you left!”
“I’m back now, okay?”
“I heard Aunt Ginger and Daddy talking—”
“They’re planning our trip. And we’re missing out on sleep. I want to be awake for the trip tomorrow. Now get into bed and sleep!”
After an hour of staring at the dark ceiling, twisting her comforter into a tangle, Ginger concluded it was time for some warm milk and a mild sedative.
Tomorrow…no, make that today, since it was after midnight…New Year’s Day, they would be in the air for a total of nine hours, with one layover in St. Louis. She hated going without sleep, because then she got cranky with the girls. She hated cranky. They didn’t deserve it.
She got out of bed and pulled on her slippers, then crept into the kitchen in her pajamas. Between hot flashes and an overly heated house, she didn’t bother with her housecoat. Wait until Willow hit the age of fifty-three, and see if she allowed Graham to keep these saunalike temperatures in this house.
While the milk heated in the microwave, Ginger swallowed a sleeping pill and rubbed her eyes. Willow and Lucy were the ones with the nightmares in this family, but considering Larry Bager’s telephone call, Ginger didn’t doubt that she might be in line for some frightening dreams.
She settled in her favorite chair at the kitchen table and took a sip of the milk. A wall of glass separated the kitchen from the deck. At this time of year, the deck furniture was stored in the basement, so she had a clear view of the lake, where the water shimmered with light from the full moon.
After talking with Larry, Graham had decided, as she’d known he would, that they could use a watchful private investigator on their trip. Ginger knew the ex-cop was a good P.I., but how was he going to keep up with a group of people who would be scattered across the whole island of Kauai?
After the wedding, Graham and Willow planned to spend most of the week together, exploring the island, in a world all their own. Preston Black, Willow’s brother, was going to help Ginger watch the girls. The planners of this exotic wedding, Helen and Steve Courtney, would also be around to act as escorts and help with whatever was needed. This wedding trip was an extravagant gift from Mrs. Engle, a wealthy lady who Graham and Willow had befriended last year, and who had spared no expense in the arrangements she’d made for their comfort and enjoyment.
The children’s days would be filled with swimming, hiking, exploring. Graham and Willow didn’t want to spend the whole time separated from the girls, so they planned to have dinner most evenings with Lucy and Brittany.
It looked as if Larry Bager would now be helping Ginger, Preston and the Courtneys babysit.
Ginger had taken a second sip of milk when she thought she heard a tap-rattle somewhere at the other end of the house. Probably the wind.
Still…
She pushed away from the table and crept through the dark, quiet house. Before leaving for the medical mission field in Belarus, Ginger had been afraid of things that went bump in the night. Ten years dealing with every situation imaginable in a foreign country had toughened her. Now, it took more than an unidentified noise in the darkness to frighten her; it took recent notification that a convicted murderer had broken out of prison.
She passed her bedroom door and skirted the bentwood coatrack in the hall when a tiny figure in white suddenly appeared, startling her.
“Brittany?” she whispered. “Honey, what are you doing out of bed?”
The child rubbed her eyes and squeezed poor Chuckles so tightly Ginger feared for his head. “Lucy woke me up and now I can’t sleep.”
Ginger took Brittany’s free hand and led her back along the hallway. “How about sharing some warm milk with me?”
“With honey?”
“Sure.” Ginger brushed
long strands of Brittany’s blond hair behind her shoulders, and looked down into the child’s green eyes. This little darling looked so much like her late mother that it sometimes chilled Ginger.
The sisters looked nothing alike. Lucy had dark, soulfully deep eyes that seemed to see beneath the surface of things. Her hair was almost as dark as her eyes, her face solemn in repose, whereas Brittany always had a quick smile. Lucy remained aloof from strangers, and it often seemed to concern her when her little sister made friends easily.
The bond of love between the sisters was strong. Lucy took her role as older sister seriously. For the first few months of the girls’ life here in Hideaway, Lucy had refused to let Brittany out of her sight.
Keeping watch over the active five-year-old was quite a responsibility, and, after much pleading, Ginger had convinced Lucy that Brittany would come to no harm here in the tiny village of kind, common people.
“How did Lucy wake you up?” Ginger asked.
“She had another bad dream, and then I got into bed with her so she’d feel safe, but she left me there.”
Ginger stopped. “She left you?”
“Uh-huh. She went out to the hallway when you and Daddy were arguing.”
Ginger winced. “We weren’t arguing.” What if Lucy had overheard her talking to Graham about Rick Fenrow? “Where is she now?”
Before Brittany could answer, a scream rent the air, followed quickly by another, raising the hairs along the back of Ginger’s neck and causing her to stumble and stub her toe on the hall coatrack.
That was Lucy’s voice, raised in terror.
Another nightmare?
Ginger turned and ran back down the hallway. Graham’s door flew open and he scrambled out, nearly colliding with Ginger. The screams continued.
They reached Lucy’s room to find her standing between the beds, staring out the window. Graham grabbed her up into his arms while Ginger turned on the light. Lucy’s face was as pale as her nightgown, her dark brown eyes wide with terror, mouth open, long hair falling over her face.
“The man, Graham!” she cried, pointing toward the window. “There was a man! He was out there watching me when I opened my eyes. I saw him. He was watching me! Right in that window!”
Graham put Lucy down and grabbed the flashlight the girls kept on the stand between the beds for when the electricity went off. He rushed to the window and shone the bright beam over the yard around the side of the house, then turned and ran from the room. Within seconds, the outdoor lights flooded the yard and garden, outlining two of the horses in the corral behind the house.
Ginger heard Brittany’s cries from the kitchen. Grabbing Lucy’s hand, she hurried back to find Graham holding Brittany in his arms as he punched a number on the telephone keypad.
“Shhh, it’s okay, honey,” he whispered to Brittany. “It’s going to be okay. Lucy’s been having some bad dreams lately, you know—” His attention switched to the phone. “Greg? This is Graham Vaughn. Could you come out here? We’ve had some excitement.” He explained the situation to the sheriff in two succinct sentences, thanked him and hung up, stooping to place Brittany on her feet.
“There’ll be some men here in a couple of minutes. I’m going to go outside and check—”
“No!” Lucy cried. “What if it’s that man?” She stared, wide-eyed, at Brittany, pressing her lips together. The terror in her eyes told Ginger what she’d feared.
Indeed, Lucy had heard them earlier tonight. She obviously knew about Rick Fenrow.
“Graham,” Ginger said, “why don’t you stay inside?” More than likely, Lucy had awakened from another nightmare, and convinced herself it was real because of what she’d overheard. More than likely.
But Ginger didn’t want to take chances. And so the four of them stayed together in the kitchen, staring out the windows, the children wide-eyed and trembling, until they heard the sound of a motor a few minutes later.
As they’d expected, the sheriff and his deputy, as well as Taylor Jackson, forest ranger, arrived in three different vehicles—Taylor’s vehicle being a boat.
This sprawling log home provided them with the best of both worlds. They lived in the country, with all the privacy they could want. They were only a quarter of a mile from downtown Hideaway by way of the shoreline, and one mile by road. Many Hideaway residents used water transportation.
The men searched the entire property. By the time they were finished, Dane Gideon, mayor of Hideaway and director of the boys’ ranch across the lake, had come over. With him were his household help, Richard Cook, and college student, Blaze Farmer, who, Ginger knew, Lucy adored. If anyone could put Lucy at ease about tonight, it would be Blaze.
All the men went over the property once again for good measure, then rejoined the family in the great room, accepting the cups of hot chocolate the girls had helped Ginger prepare.
No one was found, but Ginger couldn’t help feeling that perhaps someone just didn’t want to be found.
THREE
Ray Clyde sat reading the Springfield Daily News with his back to the window that looked out over the parking lot of the Springfield-Branson Airport. He’d received an early morning summons to Columbia Regional Hospital for one of his young patients. After finishing there, he’d decided just to drive on down to Springfield rather than go back to bed. He’d have had to get up early to make the three-hour drive, anyway.
It was never easy to get back to sleep after dealing with a child in pain, though after twenty years, he should be impervious to the cries of mother and child, the fear and panic. He wasn’t. He had decided when he first began his career that if he ever ceased to have compassion for his patients, he would retire.
He’d be working well into his seventies at this rate.
He glanced over the top of his paper as two familiar figures entered the concourse and walked toward the Delta self-check-in terminals. He smiled at the sight of Willow Traynor and her brother, Preston Black.
Willow glowed with the radiance of a woman in love. Tall and slender, with short, dark hair, she emanated self-sufficiency. This was something about which her fiancé, Graham Vaughn, occasionally complained—though always with good grace.
Neither Willow nor Preston noticed Ray, and he was glad. It meant others also might not notice him. Graham had even suggested that Ray not attempt to board until the last minute. Ray understood perfectly why his friend felt a late arrival was necessary, but he still chafed at the thought of subterfuge.
After another five minutes, the glass doors slid open again and two little girls burst into the concourse. Ray knew from photos that these children were Lucy and Brittany Jameson. They would be adopted by Graham and Willow next week, as soon as they returned from Hawaii.
“Mommy!” Brittany called, racing forward, arms outstretched.
Willow turned, a smile of delight spreading across the slightly angular features of her face. The smile transformed her somewhat solemn expression into a thing of beauty.
She and her brother, Preston, both stepped out of line and knelt to embrace the children.
Brittany, the five-year-old, looked small for her age, though Ray knew she was nearly six. It was easy to tell that she was the charmer. With long, pale hair and a wide grin, she looked much like the photos of her mother, who had been killed last year.
Lucy, in contrast, appeared older than eight and a half, not because of her size, but because her demeanor was so watchful and serious. She resembled Willow, with her dark brown hair and reserved expression, especially when she smiled, which she suddenly did at Willow, whom she obviously adored.
Preston leaned close to Lucy and asked her something. Ray couldn’t hear what he said, but Lucy placed her hands on her hips and gave him a disapproving look. “It’s not an airplane, Uncle Preston, it’s a jet.”
Preston chuckled. He, too, looked most like Willow when he smiled. It was obvious he doted on the children.
“That’s right, my dear, you set ’em straight” came a p
ainfully familiar voice from behind the girls.
Ray looked up to see Ginger Carpenter walking through the doorway beside Graham Vaughn, her brother. Ray’s breath caught.
Ginger. A year ago, if anyone had suggested that a rift might form between him and Ginger Carpenter, Ray would have thought it was impossible. His most precious memories of their time together and their growing friendship were of her smile, her laughter, her tender compassion.
Of course, many of those same memories also included the powerful and painful attraction he had felt for her since their first meeting. By all indications, the attraction had never been reciprocated, and he hoped his rare loss of emotional control had remained undetected by his colleagues—and especially by Ginger.
He expected her to turn at any second and spot him. Fireworks would then commence.
The reason Graham preferred that the conflagration take place onboard rather than in the concourse was obvious. Graham wanted his sister to attend his wedding. If she saw Ray while she could still escape, she might do so. Graham had warned Ray that his characteristically kindhearted, forgiving sister had not forgiven Ray for their conflict last year.
Ray intended for that to change on this trip.
He continued to hold the paper, but over the top edge he watched Ginger. He had always enjoyed her sunny smile, her quick laughter, the glow of health across her fair, freckled face. This morning her golden-red hair was mingled with new silver that he hadn’t noticed a year ago. The effect was one of antiqued copper—very becoming on her. She didn’t appear well rested, however.
A strange man with dark brown hair and a black leather jacket suddenly joined the group. Lucy grabbed her sister’s arm and stepped in front of her protectively.
Ray watched the man’s face.
“Ow!” Brittany wriggled from Lucy’s grip. “Stop it, sissy, you’re hurting me.”
Lucy released her, but continued to stare at the man. As Preston and Willow had done, this man squatted in front of the girls, looking them in the eyes. “Hi. I’m Larry Bager.”
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