by Meg Benjamin
Just get through the wedding. Just get through the wedding.
Wonder was supposedly bringing the judge with him and Allie, and Kit figured the rest of the wedding party could find their own way to the Woodrose. The family wasn’t due in until tomorrow, even though her father was giving Allie away. They’d find someone to stand in for Papi at the rehearsal, sort of a substitute Dad.
She blew out a breath. Just as well. She still hadn’t decided what to say to Papi exactly about her job at the Rose. Or whether she was going to introduce Nando.
At four, she looked up to see Allie wandering through the rose garden outside the event center. She frowned—her aunt wasn’t due until five and Wonder was supposed to bring her. After a moment to smooth her hair, she headed into the garden herself.
“Hi Aunt Allie,” she chirped. Geez could you sound any phonier?
Allie glanced at her, and Kit caught her breath. Her aunt’s face seemed drawn tight, her eyes shadowed, deep lines etched around her mouth as if she hadn’t slept for a couple of nights. “Allie,” she said quietly, “are you okay?”
“Sure,” Allie replied quickly, then paused, rubbing a hand across her mouth. “Well, sort of, I guess. I’m just tired. Really, really tired.”
Kit put a hand on her arm. “Come here. Sit down in the shade.” She maneuvered her onto a stone bench under a spreading pecan. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing,” Allie said stubbornly, but she closed her eyes. After a moment, she shook her head. “He wants me to sell the house.”
“Steve? Your house?” Kit licked her lips, trying to decide what to say. She’d sort of taken it as a given that Allie would want to sell her house. “You don’t want to?”
“It’s my house,” Allie said softly. “When I bought it, I knew I’d finally made a home in Konigsburg. Finally gotten where I wanted to go.”
“But…” Kit took another breath. “Steve’s house is nice too.”
“Steve’s house is great. But it’s not my house.” Allie’s voice sounded like a mechanical toy that was wound a bit too tight. “I don’t want to give up my house.”
“Allie.” Kit leaned forward, resting her hand on her aunt’s knee. “You don’t have to think about this now. You can work it out after you and Steve get back from your honeymoon. You’ve got enough things to worry about at the moment.”
Allie nodded. “I do have a lot of things to worry about. This is one of them.”
“Let me get you some tea,” Kit said quickly. “Why don’t you come inside the event center? I think we’ve got some of Joe’s appetizers left over from lunch.”
“I’ll come inside in a little while. Right now I want to walk.” Allie stared out at the roses, not looking at her.
Kit licked her lips again. “Aunt Allie…”
“I’ll be all right. But I need to be by myself for a while.” Allie pushed herself to her feet. “Don’t worry about me. Just go on doing whatever you were doing before.” She stepped away from the bench, then headed toward the inn, her back a rigid line against the blooming rose arbor.
“Crap,” Kit whispered as she watched her walk away. “Crap, crap, crap.”
Allie wandered along the graveled garden path, not really paying any attention to where she was going. She’d have to tell him. Now. Before the rehearsal. Because, of course, there was no point in having a rehearsal for something that wasn’t going to take place. She’d have to tell him she couldn’t marry him before this went any further.
Her heart seemed to contract, almost as if someone were pulling it tighter with a string. Steve. She caught her breath in a gasp.
She loved him. She’d loved him for years, ever since he’d taken her to the Liddy Brenner Festival the first time. She knew all his faults, all the reasons she shouldn’t love him, but it didn’t seem to matter. The sarcasm. The thinning hair. The hornrims. The slightly pot belly that would probably turn into a true gut by the time he was fifty, given his affection for German beer. None of it bothered her. She knew the character underneath it all, the kindness, the intelligence, the loyalty.
She loved him. She did. And she couldn’t marry him.
Breathing was becoming more difficult. Her throat seemed to have closed up. Her jaws ached. She wanted nothing so much as to find a quiet corner somewhere and cry her eyes out.
She’d suspected for a while that she couldn’t do it, couldn’t carry off a wedding, but she’d always managed to talk herself out of it before. Now suddenly the whole thing seemed to be landing on her shoulders with a crunch. Maybe she could write him a note and just leave town for a while.
She pressed her hand across her mouth, fighting back a sob. How could she not marry him? He’d be so hurt. But how could she marry him? How could she give away everything she’d worked for? How could she give away herself?
Everything will change. All the things I worked for will slip away. My house will be gone. And then I’ll be gone. I won’t know myself anymore.
She took another shuddering breath and sank down on another stone bench. Somewhere nearby she heard the sound of garden shears snipping.
Great. I’m going to embarrass myself in front of the groundskeeper.
She took another breath, raising her head in what she feared was a very shaky imitation of normal.
The snipping came closer. A man in a gray uniform was silhouetted briefly against the rose bushes where he was clipping off deadheads. The nametag on his shirt read “Didrikson.” He paused when he caught sight of her. “Something I can help you with, ma’am?”
Why yes. Could you go tell my fiancé I can’t marry him? Allie pulled herself upright. “No, that’s all right. I’m just enjoying your garden.”
The gardener stepped closer, clipping another rose from the bush. “Enjoy away.”
She sat very still, staring at him as he put down the clippers to gather the dried flowers into a trash bag. Something about that voice. Deep. Gravelly. The body was familiar, too, now that she thought about it. There was something about the set of the shoulders. And the uniform. Something about the uniform.
She squinted at him again. The face. She knew the face.
She pushed herself a bit shakily to her feet. “You have lovely roses,” she said in a voice that sounded totally artificial even to her.
The gardener watched her carefully, letting the trash bag with the dried roses slip through his fingers to the ground.
Allie licked her lips, giving him another shaky smile. “Well, thank you for…your beautiful garden. I’ve got a wedding rehearsal to get to. I guess I’ll just head back to the event center now.”
Almost before she knew what was happening, the gardener grasped her arm, yanking her toward him. “I guess you won’t.”
“I…” She was appalled to hear her voice shake. Pull it together. “What are you doing? Let me go. Right now.” She jerked back hard, trying to pull free of that iron grasp.
“What am I doing? I’m saving my life.” He gave her a smile that was more like a grimace. “And my freedom, Ms. Maldonado.” He wrapped one arm around her waist like a vice, pulling her tight against him as she struggled.
Allie dug in her heels, drawing a breath to scream. But he slapped his hand across her mouth, his other arm still tight around her waist. “No screaming now. We can both still get out of this alive if you stay smart. You could actually prove useful.” He began to drag her backward, half carrying her toward a service door.
Allie struggled against his arm, trying and failing to jerk her head free. He cuffed the side of her head, sharply. “Knock it off, Maldonado. I don’t want to hurt you, but I know how.”
For a moment, her head swam. She heard his shoulder hit the door behind her, heard the swish of the door itself opening, then felt the coolness of air conditioning washing across her skin as the sunlight dimmed. She closed her eyes, shaking her head limply, trying to dig her heels into the slick surface of the floor as he dragged her back up the hall.
Damn! Oh damn, dam
n, damn! This was worse than wedding nerves. So much worse. And it was her own fault. She’d been the one who’d wandered off to the rose garden instead of staying where she should have been.
Because she’d been off sulking in the garden when she should have been meeting Steve, she’d just been kidnapped by Chief Brody.
And then the door slammed shut behind them.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nando took one last look at the file open on the desk in front of him. The Rangers’ report on Brody didn’t tell him much he didn’t already know. He’d been hoping they might have included details about Brody’s various bank accounts, information that Brody himself might possibly have needed or wanted to find. But a cursory read had confirmed that the accountants were much too smart to put that kind of data in a report anybody could read. There probably was a report with greater detail somewhere, but he doubted it was in Konigsburg.
He shook his head, leaning back in his chair. Whatever Brody had been searching for was at the heart of this. Somehow it had to be. But he hadn’t a clue as to what that something was.
He glanced around the station. Helen had gone home early at Toleffson’s urging. Ham was patrolling with a new sense of importance since he was one of the few people in the office who claimed he could recognize Brody on sight. Toleffson was off at the wedding rehearsal. Nando was supposed to be doing his eternal paperwork, but in fact he was playing Sherlock Holmes. Badly.
He’d clicked to Google on the office computer, trying to find more information about Brody’s escape, when the phone on Helen’s desk rang. He pushed himself to his feet and ambled over. Whatever minor crisis somebody was having might at least give him something else to think about.
He picked up the receiver. “Konigsburg police.”
“Let me speak to your chief,” a man’s voice said abruptly.
“The chief isn’t here right now. Can I take a message?”
“Who are you?”
Frowning, Nando managed to keep from snarling back. “I’m Assistant Chief Avrogado. What can I do for you?”
“Assistant Chief Avrogado?” The man said. His voice seemed faintly mocking, as if he found Nando’s title absurd.
Nando stiffened. “What can I do for you?” he repeated through clenched teeth.
“Well, Officer, I’ve got a hostage here. She’s all right at the moment. She’ll stay that way if you do exactly what I say.”
Nando grasped the phone so tightly his fingers ached. “What? Who the hell is this?”
“Keep it down, Officer,” the man snapped. “You don’t want to involve anybody else in this, not if you want her to stay healthy. And you know who I am. Or you should if you think about it.”
Nando leaned a hand on the desk. Brody. Had to be. “Yeah. I know who you are, you crooked son of a bitch. Who’s your hostage?”
“Easy, Officer Avrogado. You don’t want to piss me off. My hostage is Ms. Maldonado,” Brody said.
Nando’s breath caught in his throat. “Kit,” he choked out.
There was a pause at the other end, then Brody was back. “No. Allie Maldonado. Still want to save her?”
Nando thought he heard a noise in the background, maybe a gasp. God damn it to hell! “What do you want?”
“Here’s what you’re going to do,” Brody said calmly. “I want the contents of the chief’s desk. All of it. Every drawer. Put it in a sack and bring it to the Woodrose. I’ll have Ms. Maldonado in the Damask Meeting Room. Once I have the sack, I’ll give her back to you. Come alone, Officer, and don’t tell anybody else. You’ve got twenty minutes before she starts getting hurt.”
This time the gasp was definite. “Twenty minutes isn’t enough time,” Nando said hurriedly.
“Maybe. But it’s all the time you’ve got. Better get moving.”
The phone went dead in his ear.
Kit stood in the back of the event center, studying the decorations. They weren’t great. If she’d had a few weeks longer she might have been able to find people who’d have done a better job. Still, they weren’t awful. They’d do.
The silver swags along the benches glowed in the late afternoon shadows. The pale pink roses with sprigs of lavender were charming and besides they smelled great. The lavender roses at the front were maybe a little over the top, but not so far over that they’d upset Allie.
Allie. She frowned quickly. Shouldn’t she have come back by now? Even if she was having yet another crisis of confidence, she should at least get back here in time for the rehearsal. It wasn’t like Allie to keep other people waiting, no matter how upset she was.
Members of the wedding had already begun to straggle in. Cal Toleffson stood up front with Docia and his brother Erik, the chief of police. She could see Jess and Lars heading down the gravel walk from the parking lot. Maybe it was time to go looking for Allie.
“Where is she?” The voice at her elbow made her jump. She hadn’t seen Wonder come in.
“She went for a walk,” Kit explained, pressing a hand to her heart.
Wonder’s forehead was furrowed, his jaw set. He looked like he was going through a mild crisis of his own. “Was she still upset?”
Kit nodded. “A little.”
“Damn it. All I did was ask her if she’d listed her place with a realtor yet. How does that qualify as pressure?”
“She’s just nervous. I think the whole wedding thing is getting to her.” And, of course, to everybody else. For the hundredth time, Kit gave thanks that the whole thing was almost over.
“Where did she go walking?” Wonder glanced around the parking lot. “I’ll see if I can find her.”
“She’s in the rose garden. I’ll come with you.” Kit walked purposefully toward the main entrance. If she was with Wonder, it might cut down on the chances that Allie would do anything to disappoint everybody. At this stage, she was willing to use any strategy she could think of to keep everything running on track.
After a moment, she heard Wonder trailing after her. “She doesn’t have to sell her house,” he muttered. “She doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to. Hell, we can live there if that’s what she wants. She keeps getting worked up over everything.”
“She’s just nervous,” Kit repeated absently. “Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.”
Of course, right now the problem was that she didn’t see Allie anywhere in the rose garden, where she’d supposedly been walking. She felt the first faint stirrings of panic. Allie wouldn’t really bolt, would she? Leaving her favorite niece holding the bag?
“I don’t see her,” Wonder said from behind her.
“I don’t either. Maybe she went into the inn.” Kit turned up the path that led back to the lower inn entrance, then paused. A flash of something bright had caught her eye. She leaned down, pushing aside a rose bush.
Allie’s purse sat half-propped against a floribunda, the gold clasp shining in the sun. A pair of garden clippers lay on the ground nearby along with a trash bag full of dead roses.
“What the hell?” Wonder stopped behind her. “Isn’t that Allie’s? Where would she go without her purse?”
Kit nodded slowly. “And Mr. Didrikson’s stuff. Why would either of them leave these things here?”
Suddenly she had a flash of memory—Didrikson on his mower, riding back and forth across the lawn, his broad back straight above the seat.
His broad back. I’d swear I’ve seen him somewhere before. But I don’t know where or when. It’s just…I’ve seen that back. Doing something. Her chest clenched tight. Suddenly it hurt to breathe.
“Christ,” she breathed. “Oh Christ. Brody. He’s Brody. And he must have taken Allie with him. That’s why she left her purse. He grabbed her.”
“What?” Wonder glanced around the garden, his head swiveling like a turret gunner. “Brody? Where? That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he take Allie?”
Kit pressed a hand to her pounding heart. “I don’t know.” Think! “Maybe for a hostage. Maybe he’s kidnap
ped her to help him get away.” Please let that be it. Please don’t let him hurt her.
“A hostage?” Wonder shook his head slowly. “That’s nuts. She probably just went inside the inn. Maybe she was so frazzled she forgot her purse.” He turned toward the rear entrance.
Kit pulled back on his arm, holding tight. “Listen to me. Please, Steve! Go get Erik. I’ll call Nando. If I’m wrong, it’ll be just another false sighting. You can all laugh at me. But if I’m right, we need them. Now!”
Wonder stared down at her, blinking. “Erik?”
“Please. He’s in the event center. Just do it!” She pushed him in the direction of the building.
He stared back at her for a moment longer, then began trotting back up the path.
Kit pulled her phone from her pocket, running toward the rear entrance to the inn. There was no way she was going to stand outside waiting while somebody threatened her aunt. Particularly not when they had a wedding tomorrow.
Nando took one frantic glance around the station. Helen and Ham were gone. Toleffson was gone. The night shift wouldn’t be in for an hour.
And he had less than twenty minutes to pick up the stuff and drive to the Woodrose.
He pulled a large plastic trash sack from behind Helen’s desk and headed for the chief’s office. The desk and file cabinet contents lay where they’d left it earlier, spread out on the folding table. Nando grabbed handfuls and threw them into the sack, not taking the time to look at them. He checked his watch.
Seventeen minutes.
He pulled the drawstring at the top of the sack and ran for the parking lot, locking the door behind him, although a fat lot of good that would do. His truck was parked next to the cruiser. After a moment’s hesitation, he unlocked it and climbed in. The less attention he drew the better, and taking the cruiser to the Woodrose would definitely draw attention.
The highway into town was clogged with weekend tourists, but fortunately he was headed the other direction. One part of his brain kept track of the time while the other tried to figure out what to do. Brody would want to hang onto Allie as his hostage. He had to figure out a way to keep him from taking her with him when he left. If only Toleffson…
