Kidnapped at Christmas

by Barb Han

  Chapter Fourteen

  The email from Alexander had come in while Meg was still sleeping. The offer he’d made on the land in Centreville had been accepted; permits were being fast-tracked, and construction would be back on track in the new location in a week. Still, no word on the lake house, though.

  At least part of his life was coming together...

  Meg burst out of the bedroom. The baby in Wyatt’s arms jerked awake.

  “What is it?” he asked, holding as still as he could considering every instinct had him wanting to jump up and run toward her. She had come out of that room so fast a split-second fear that someone would fly out behind her with a gun struck him.

  “I thought you were gone,” she said through gasps of air. “A noise woke me. You weren’t there. I freaked.”

  Sweat beaded on her forehead and he could see that she was trembling.

  “I’m right here,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere without telling you first.”

  He had to qualify that last part, because there would come a time when they wouldn’t spend so much time around each other. That would be a good thing from the standpoint of the investigation. It would mean Meg and the baby were safe and could get back to their old routine. But what about Wyatt?

  The thought of going back to his house in Austin alone sent a strange burning sensation shooting through his chest.

  Maybe he could stick around. Put some furniture in that house next door to hers that he’d rented and spend a little time there? It wasn’t a horrible thought.

  Besides, his daughter was beginning to feel more and more natural in his arms, and he needed to learn to take care of her on his own. He could do bottles and a diaper, but there was a whole lot more involved in caring for a baby than that.

  But, hey, getting a diaper on her correctly and securely was something to be proud of. At this point, he’d take all the little wins he could get. He had a feeling this parenting thing wasn’t going to be easy. Unlike at work, he could tell people what to do and they would listen. The bundle in his arms had complete control over him, and all he could do—and surprisingly wanted to do—was let her take the lead.

  Meg stood there, rooted to her spot, and he could tell she needed more reassurance.

  “I’m here. I’m not leaving.” That was absolute truth. Not until they had answers.

  Watching his daughter sleep, he vowed to give her mother the same peace of mind. They were getting close to finding the truth. Wyatt could feel it. Learning the name from her past and finding out the man was in prison had at first felt like a setback. Not anymore, and he wanted to discuss his theories with her once the baby was down for the night.

  “Let’s get out of here and grab a bite to eat,” he said. There was an out-of-the-way restaurant he’d spotted on the way back from the sheriff’s office. Meg needed a good meal and something that felt normal. She needed a fresh perspective and so did he. Taking a break and looking at a problem from a new perspective had always helped him find the answers.

  “Okay.” She dragged her hand through her hair. “I’ll just get dressed.”

  * * *

  “THIS WAS A good idea,” Meg said, after taking the last bite of chicken-fried steak on her plate. “I didn’t think I’d be able to stomach anything.”

  Taking a break from the heaviness of the afternoon was good. They could both use a fresh perspective.

  And, besides, Wyatt liked making Meg happy. A decent meal was the least he could give her after all she’d been through.

  The baby had slept through the entire meal and tension had slowly eased from Meg’s facial features. He picked up the bill the server had dropped off. “I’ll take care of this.”

  “Before we go, I need to use the restroom,” Meg said, scanning the room. It was a habit he’d noticed when they’d dated last year. She’d checked the exits of every new restaurant he’d taken her to. At first, he’d wondered if it was just one of her quirks. Then, he’d considered the possibility that she was being overly vigilant with the spate of random crimes on the news in the Austin area. Had he been dead wrong. Her paranoia took on a whole new meaning and he understood so much more of her for knowing about her past.

  “I’ll take Aubrey,” he said, picking up the baby carrier that plugged right into a base forming a secure car seat.

  “Okay. I’ll meet you out front,” she said.

  Wyatt handled the bill and walked out to the truck. The air was still chilly, but sun promised to show tomorrow if he could believe the weatherman.

  The baby didn’t so much as budge as the carrier clicked into place, secured in the back seat.

  Until a scream shattered the night air.

  Out of his peripheral vision, he saw commotion. He scanned the parking lot of the restaurant. Meg came into focus. A man had her arms jacked up behind her and the glint of metal in the sunlight said there was a gun to her temple.

  Wyatt bit back a curse. Make a move and the man could squeeze the trigger faster than Wyatt could literally take a breath. Not to mention the guy could hit Aubrey if he pulled off a shot in Wyatt’s direction. Who was this guy anyway? It had to be one of the fathers from her work. Right? Hector? Zach Brandt?

  Fighting every instinct inside his body urging him to make a move toward the attacker, he shielded Aubrey with the truck door.

  Meg didn’t struggle.

  “You don’t want to do this,” Wyatt warned.

  “Stay back or she’s dead, man.” The guy’s voice had a hysterical edge to it.

  “Listen to Jonathon.” Meg winced as the attacker twisted her arms even further behind her back. “Please. Wyatt. Don’t follow me. Take care of her.”

  Jonathon Fjord. Mary Jane’s brother. The sheriff had mentioned his deputies were looking for him, and now it made sense as to why he’d gone missing. Had he been plotting revenge? Waiting?

  Another thought struck. Meg had said that he’d tried to approach her over the summer at the supermarket. She would’ve been pretty far along in her pregnancy. Seeing that could’ve driven him over the edge if he’d been harboring feelings against her all this time. The event, according to Meg, had traumatized him to the point he couldn’t function in a normal environment again.

  Anger bit through Wyatt.

  Tough situation or not, none of this was Meg’s fault. She’d been just as much a victim. Her innocence had been stripped that day and Jonathon was too twisted to see it.

  How could he let this guy take the woman he loved—loved? Yes, loved.

  Without her, nothing in his life made sense. He’d confirmed with one kiss what he’d suspected last year. He was in love with Meg.

  But what were his options?

  Make a move now and the guy might just pull the trigger. Possibly kill Meg. Aubrey would be without a mother...

  Damn.

  He couldn’t go there. Not even hypothetically.

  Plus, there was the other possibility that Jonathon might take aim at the truck and strike Aubrey. If he could trade himself for Meg and know that she’d be safe, no problem.

  There was no way he would put their daughter in jeopardy and Meg wouldn’t want him to. His mind was spinning with bad options.

  In every scenario he came up with, someone he cared about ended up dead. Unless Meg could overpower the guy and somehow knock the gun out of his hand. Wyatt couldn’t get to them from this distance unless she made a move and distracted Fjord.

  Wyatt had to wait, be ready if an opportunity presented itself. So, instead of taking action, he stood there with an almost overwhelming feeling of helplessness.

  One-on-one, Jonathon would go down. No doubt about it. Wyatt didn’t doubt his skills for a second. But his attention was splintered between Meg and Aubrey.

  Jonathon had the upper hand in this scenario.

  Fjord said something to Meg that Wya
tt couldn’t make out. She winced as his grip seemed to tighten around her neck.

  “Don’t follow us, Wyatt. He’ll kill me,” she said with certainty. “Call the sheriff and the second he sees a law enforcement vehicle anywhere near us, he’ll kill me. And if you try to follow us, he’ll kill me.”

  Could he trail them without being caught? Not with Aubrey. It was too dangerous.

  Standing there, frustration bit sharp lines into his gut.

  Wyatt bit back a curse as the two walked around the corner, disappearing from view. He phoned the sheriff but the call went into voicemail. Wyatt texted the details of what had happened and the location before putting his phone on vibrate. His biggest fear was that Jonathon was going to kill her anyway. Why he hadn’t done it already caused Wyatt to scratch his head. Because he wants her to feel his pain.

  Wyatt was reaching for a sliver of hope and the only one he found was in the thought Jonathon wouldn’t kill her immediately.

  Starting his truck would bring unwanted and dangerous attention, so he unstrapped Aubrey and cradled her against his chest. Could he get a visual on them, some kind of direction, without being seen?

  If Aubrey made a single noise, it could be game over for her mother.

  His strides were purposeful and silent as he closed in on the restaurant. Could he get around the corner in time? Could he get the make and model of the car? A license plate?

  The answer was no. But what if he had? Then what?

  That’s where he hit a wall. The answer dawned on him as he circled back to the truck. He couldn’t do any of this alone. He grabbed his cell and the wrinkled business card from inside his dash where he’d shoved it the other night.

  And then he phoned the only person who could assist and said a prayer he remembered from childhood that he hadn’t burned the bridge with the few folks he knew in Cattle Barge.

  The call went to voice mail.

  “I need your help.” Those four words rolled off his tongue easily now, and he found, with the right motivation, they weren’t difficult at all to say.

  Wyatt ended the call and tried to think of someone else. There’d been no response to from the sheriff. There was no one else he confided in or could rely on. He’d constructed walls so high no one could climb over and he couldn’t see out anymore.

  Damn. Damn. Damn.

  He white-knuckle gripped his phone.

  His phone vibrated in his hand.

  Wyatt recognized the number from the card. Dade Butler.

  “Does your offer of help still stand?” Wyatt immediately asked.

  “Everyone’s here and ready to do whatever it takes to help. What do you need?” Dade responded without hesitation.

  * * *

  MEG’S HEAD POUNDED. It was pitch-black. She struggled to move against the bindings on her wrists. Her hands were numb. Trying to move made everything hurt.

  Trying to scream did no good. Her mouth was covered with something...duct tape?

  Memories crashed down.

  Mary Jane’s brother. Jonathon was responsible for attempting to kidnap Aubrey. But why? What did he have to gain?

  Revenge?

  Did he hate Meg that much?

  A light flipped on and she gasped. A quick scan of the room revealed furniture but no person. Where was Jonathon? She was in some kind of container with no windows. A train car turned into a home? She’d seen things like this on TV. Weren’t they on those small-house shows where people were looking for inexpensive places to live?

  Struggling against her bindings, a voice from behind stopped her. His voice.

  “You don’t deserve to have the kind of life that was taken from my sister,” Jonathon said, and he sounded almost hysterical.

  Fear shot through her as she tried to work the bindings on her arms.

  How many times had she wished she could make it up to the family? That she could’ve traded places with Mary Jane that day? Survivor’s guilt had plagued her since then, stopping her from ever letting herself get close to anyone else.

  But Aubrey didn’t deserve this. That little girl needed her mother and, somehow, Meg would figure out a way to get home to her.

  Wyatt flashed in her thoughts, too. The idea of losing him, of never seeing him again, hit like a physical punch that winded her.

  One thing was clear. Arguing her case would do no good. Not even if her mouth wasn’t taped shut. Jonathon wouldn’t listen. He’d gone to too much trouble to get her, had exposed his identity in the process, and she wondered if either would make it out of this situation alive. He could kill her and then what? Go on the run for the rest of his life? Hide? How did that punish Meg for her best friend’s death? And why come after her now after all these years?

  She worked her lips trying to make a break in the seal as tears streamed down her cheeks, praying this wouldn’t be the place where her life ended.

  The thought of not seeing Aubrey again, of her daughter growing up without a mother, stabbed needles of pain through her.

  On her side, tears dripped onto the cold concrete flooring.

  There was no doubt that she was in some remote location. Most likely somewhere no one would think to look for her.

  Had Wyatt done as she asked and stayed put? Part of her wished he hadn’t and that he would burst into the room any minute with the sheriff and a few deputies at his side. She’d told him not to follow them and, really, he’d had no choice.

  She didn’t blame him. He’d done the right thing by Aubrey, and Meg was grateful to see how much he loved that little girl. It was an odd thought but mattered so much to her heart to know Aubrey was going to have a loving parent to care for her if...

  Struggling against the bindings, Meg shook with anger and fear and outrage.

  “Hold still,” Jonathon commanded. She could hear him behind her doing something but couldn’t tell what it was.

  Like hell she would roll over and let him do whatever he wanted to her without fighting back.

  He was going to kill her anyway. What was the difference if she angered him?

  Meg fought harder, worked harder.

  A piece of tape lifted at the corner of her mouth.

  “You don’t want to do this, Jonathon,” she managed to get out. Her lungs burned from lack of oxygen, and even fresh air hurt as she drew it in.

  “Don’t you dare say my name,” he said, and she could hear his footsteps on the concrete flooring coming toward her.

  “She wouldn’t want this. We were best friends,” Meg said, biding her time until he got closer. Maybe she could wheel around and knock him off his feet. With her hands and feet bound he clearly had the advantage, but if she could knock him off balance, maybe she could do some damage before he killed her and tossed her body away.

  “Friends?” The one word came out so shrill it sounded like a trapped animal. And when she really thought about it, he had been trapped in his own mind, his own sorrow.

  “Doing this won’t bring her back,” she said. “And it won’t bring peace.”

  Cold, hard metal pressed against the side of her head behind her ear. All she could think about was Aubrey and Wyatt. At least they had each other. Her daughter wouldn’t grow up alone without love. Meg had seen the love in his eyes when he’d been holding their daughter. Part of her wanted to believe he’d had that same look the other day when they’d kissed for the first time since reuniting.

  “Mary Jane is dead because of you,” he ground out.

  “I didn’t hurt her. I would never do that,” she managed to say on a gasp. Adrenaline spiked and her body trembled from the boost. A knee came down hard on her arm, pinning it to her side. There was no way out and the room felt like it was shrinking. Her lungs clawed for air and she fought to stay conscious. She wanted her last thoughts to be about Wyatt and their daughter, not this creep.

  And
her sweet friend, Mary Jane.

  “She was my best friend,” Meg said one more time.

  Jonathon’s laugh turned to a seething anger.

  “Blame me all you want, but I didn’t do anything,” she said. “Believe me, I wish it had been me that day. That I was the one who’d been taken and not her.”

  The barrel of the gun traced around her ear and then her forehead, moving her hair away from her face.

  “That makes two of us,” he said bitterly. There was so much venom in his voice that it seemed no amount of reason could penetrate his hatred for her.

  She closed her eyes and prepared for the crack-of-a-bullet sound as the weapon fired. The burst of fire. The explosion when the bullet pierced her skull.

  Where she thought there would be panic, anger flooded her, instead. Anger that life had handed her a terrible fate early on that had led her to this place with Mary Jane’s brother. Anger that her life might be taken away in an instant and she might not be around for her daughter. Anger for the fact that she’d never know if Wyatt could truly love her since they wouldn’t be given a chance. She thought she’d heard him say it when they’d made love. She should’ve been brave enough to ask, to take the life she wanted and not let go.

  And the life she wanted was a family with Wyatt and their daughter.

  Meg bucked her body, trying to fight against the certain death hovering.

  “Be still,” Jonathon commanded. At this point, what did it matter?

  “Why? So you can enjoy killing me?” she shot back.

  A grunt was issued with a blow to her back. A boot tip?

  Meg rolled onto her back. “Look at me when you do it. Mary Jane wouldn’t have wanted this. She would be ashamed of you.”

  Jonathon backhanded her across the cheek and it felt like her eye might pop out.

  “Killing me won’t change anything,” she repeated. “We can’t get Mary Jane back no matter how much we wish we could.”

  “Which is exactly why you’re going to suffer,” he said.

  “She wouldn’t want that. Not that you care.” Meg was pushing the boundary, but he needed to hear the words again and again until they broke through. “I wish I could’ve changed things. Been able to remember and give the police a description. But hurting me doesn’t punish Clayton Glass. He’s already in Huntsville. And when this over, you’ll be joining him.”