by Lynde Lakes
“How?”
“Read the family journals and ask your brother, Damon.”
With that, the lovely creature shook the muck off her wings and disappeared into the golden glow of sunrise, leaving him in the muddy meadow with questions and a driving determination to get answers.
Shortly after, Hugo found an icy stream from a recent rainfall trickling down from Mt. Baldy, and gritting his teeth, he washed away every trace of the thick, gluey mud. He was shivering so hard his teeth chattered. He rubbed his arms vigorously, wishing he had some clothing or a blanket. The early morning sun gave little warmth, and the soft, forlorn howl of the breeze from the snow-capped mountains to the east chilled him to the bones.
Now what? Hugo crouched nude in the bushes, praying that it was really possible for him to achieve the seemingly overwhelming concept of assimulating back into the complex society of the living. He didn’t want to let the angel down. She had made the decision to leave him here and might get in trouble if he failed. Hugo, an avid reader in his past life, remembered a quote from Winston Churchill: “A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty.” If he was to achieve this nearly impossible task, he must try to be an optimist, pump himself up and put some steel into his backbone. Unfortunately, being resurrected from the dead brought a wealth of problems.
Remember, optimism, he scolded himself—this renewed condition could also be a good thing. His nude body looked better than it had since birth. He hadn’t seen his face, but the skin felt smooth and his jawline strong like Damon’s. Best of all, he had complete clarity of mind. But total recall came with a price—fear. His smile faded as the sharp awareness hit him—if Reeves was still out there, he was in grave danger.
* * * *
The shrill jangling of a security alarm in the children’s room awakened Angela. Then she heard her little girls screaming.
“Damon!” Angela shouted as she jolted upright. A harsh beam of early sunlight fell on the empty spot where he was supposed to be. She threw her legs over the side of the bed, propelled herself to her bare feet, and ran to the girls’ room. She thrust the door open. Both tiny twin beds were empty!
“Valerie…Victoria,” Angela screamed over the still jangling security alarm. Her heart pounded wildly and she fought rising hysteria.
Suddenly, the alarm fell silent. She froze at the sound of a trembly, tearful little voice inside the closet calling, “Mommy.”
She yanked open the door and drew Victoria into her arms. “Oh my God, baby, are you all right?” she said, raining kisses on the child’s salty, tearstained face.
Victoria nodded. Her body was trembling.
Angela held her closer. “Honey, where’s Valerie?” She didn’t want to frighten Victoria, but was unable to keep fear out of her tone.
Victoria pointed to the canvas bag on the floor. “Bad man had two bags. He put her in the other one.”
An ache rose in Angela’s chest. At least the heavy material had air holes. But not much air would get through such small ones. Angela started to tremble. It was crucial to keep her head. Carrying Victoria with her, she rushed to the phone. She was dialing 911 as Damon charged into the room.
“Damon,” she shouted, “search the house and grounds. Someone has kidnapped Valerie!”
He spun around and disappeared. In between answering the 911 interviewer’s questions, she kissed her little girl’s sweet face repeatedly.
She tried to think logically. It was all on camera. Whoever did this wouldn’t get away with it. But oh, dear God, her baby was gone, maybe in the hands of a madman…
Fifteen minutes later, Angela had set up the security tape and was about to play it when Damon rushed back into the room. He was sweating and his hair stood on end. “I couldn’t find Valerie or the kidnapper.” His words came out in breathless gasps. “I set up a search party. I’ll join the group as soon as I view the security tape. A good description will help us find her faster. After the police arrive, you can run it again for them.”
“I was just about to watch it,” she said, briefly going into his arms.
His sweat had the acrid odor of dread. His body was warm, his sweaty skin icy. He kissed Victoria and took her into his arms. Angela hated to part with her, even for a second.
When she ran the tape, it was obvious someone had tampered with the cameras. All that showed up was a shadowy figure grabbing both girls. While the kidnapper shoved the screaming Valerie into one of his two large canvas bags, Victoria kicked him in the shins, grabbed the second bag, and took off running. First, she leapt up on one of the twin beds, ran across it, and then crawled under the second one. The alarm kept jangling and Angela could see the outline of Valerie struggling to escape the bag. Tears filled her eyes. When the man turned away to get a better hold on the jerking, shifting bag, little Victoria slipped into the closet and eased the door closed. The man glanced around the room, swore, and then disappeared from view.
Damon kissed Victoria again and said, “I’m proud of you, baby. You handled yourself just right.” Then he handed her back to Angela and darted out the door. But not before Angela saw the fluid glistening in his eyes.
“Don’t worry, honey. We’ll find her.”
Angela feared only a miracle would get her child back.
Later, when Officer Haywood and his men arrived, they found no evidence of a break-in. “It looks like someone with access to the house took the child,” he said. After he watched the tape, his expression softened and he added, “We’ll put a tap on your phone. You may get a ransom call. And we’ll put out an all-points bulletin. We take kidnapping very seriously, especially when it’s a child.”
* * * *
Hugo decided his first priority was to get clothes. He saw a group of men leaving the mansion. He stayed hidden, not sure what to do. Then he saw the police come, search the area, and leave. He’d better make his move now while everyone was gone. He entered the hidden tunnel into the mansion’s inner walls he knew so well and slipped into Damon’s closet. He knew not to enter the bedroom. He’d seen the wiring for the security cameras. Quickly, he borrowed a pair of Damon’s jeans, a v-neck sweater, and a pair of soft boots. He preferred moccasins, but Damon didn’t have any. He dressed in haste. He wished he had some cash, but going to the safe in the den was too risky. When he left the closet and reentered the tunnel, he spied a dark figure carrying a huge canvas bag over his shoulder. Hugo caught a whiff of the strong scent of chloroform. Earlier, watching the men and police comb the area had told him that something big was going on. Apparently, it was a robbery. Who was the thief, and what was he stealing? Hugo decided to follow him.
Skirting police and civilian search parties, he followed the wily thief to a cave. When he entered the dark, dank tunnels, it was easy to keep him in sight because the guy had a flashlight. Hugo was careful to stay in the shadows. Ahead, he saw what appeared to be flickering lantern light. When they approached a wider area with a raised stone platform that resembled a stage, he stopped and crouched behind a large boulder. He watched the thief meet with a taller man wearing field clothes. The lantern light gave him a better view of the thief. He had a slight build and wore western clothes and cowboy boots. The thief handed the bulging canvas bag to a taller man and, in return, received a thick, rubber-banded wad of cash. The man opened the bag and glanced inside. He frowned. “Where’s the other one?”
“She got away.”
The man grabbed the money back and divided it in half. “You’ll get the rest when the delivery is complete.”
“I can’t go in there again. They have alarms and cameras all over the place.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both, damn it.”
“Then, I don’t really need you anymore,” the man said as he drew a gun and shot him right in the heart. The slight pop that echoed through the cave told Hugo that the gun was equipped with a silencer.
The killer withdrew a glass vial and a sy
ringe from a nearby backpack. Before Hugo understood what the bad guy was about to do, he reached into the bag, withdrew a small arm, and jabbed the syringe into a vein. The vial filled with blood.
Hugo froze, suddenly remembering that the man with the gun had asked, “Where’s the other one?” And the thief answered, “She got away.” The thief was no thief—he was a kidnapper. Hugo swallowed. And that was his little niece. Let her be alive.
While he debated the best way to get the child away from that killer without any further danger to her, the man stored the bag in a chest, locked it, grabbed the vial, and took off running toward the cave entrance.
Hugo didn’t wait to be certain the man was gone. His niece couldn’t breathe in there! He grabbed a big rock and busted the lock. He reached into the chest, opened the bag, and lifted the limp little girl of about three into his arms. She was breathing! He kissed her icy cheek. Poor baby, she was probably freezing in this damp cave. He grabbed up the discarded canvas, wrapped it warmly around her, and headed for the mansion. How would he explain that he was no longer dead? It was unexplainable. He had to stay out of sight. So how would he pull this return off without getting caught? If he got caught, he might be blamed for the kidnapping. And if he pulled this off, how would he prevent another kidnapping?
Earlier, he’d watched men in field gear gathering different species, probably for some kind of testing. Was this part of that? If so, why the gun, why the murder?
Minutes later, from the closet in Damon’s bedroom, Hugo heard voices in the adjacent room. One belonged to a small girl, the other to Angela. Dare he face Angela and risk telling her what happened? Without his hump and with his renewed skin, he might not look like himself. And if he did…she and Damon had buried him. He might scare her to death. He’d better not confront her.
From all his years as a maintenance man, he knew how to temporarily shut down the cameras. The model was the same type used at Damon’s place of business. He disconnected the main curcuit, tiptoed into the master bedroom, and gently placed the unconscious child on the bed. He turned her arm so Angela could see that something hd been done to her. The child probably needed medical attention.
He grabbed up a candle holder, removed the candle and, after he slipped back into the closet, he rolled the holder across the floor and hit the twins’ door. Then, quickly, he entered the tunnel and took off running, praying no one would stop his escape.
Chapter Five
Angela stiffened at the rumbling sound in the master bedroom. It was followed by a loud thump against the door. She motioned for Victoria to stay put and grabbed up the baseball bat Damon used for some of his exercises. Wielding it like a club, she eased the door open.
Valerie lay in the center of the king-sized bed! Angela raced to her. Valerie’s eyes were closed and she smelled of chloroform and canvas. Her left arm had been posed palm up. Angela checked and found a pulse in her little girl’s neck, then she inspected the arm. She saw a drop of dried blood on the inside bend of the arm. It looked like someone had taken a sample of her child’s blood or had given her an injection.
Victoria, who had failed to stay put as told, climbed up on the bed and before Angela could stop her, she bent and kissed her sister’s forehead. “Wake up, Valerie!” A big tear rolled down Victoria’s cheek.
Valerie didn’t so much as flutter an eyelash.
“Momma, why won’t she wake up?”
Angela’s stomach knotted. Had that monster drugged her baby? She’d smelled the chloroform. What else had he done to her? “Victoria, go get your dad…now!”
Less than eight minutes later, with questions swirling in their heads, they headed for the hospital. On the way, Valerie woke up and started crying.
Victoria cried too and, in a wobbly yet brave little voice, said, “Don’t cry, baby sister. You’re safe now.”
Angela’s eyes filled with hot tears. But was Valerie safe? Would any of them ever be safe in that mansion again?
At the hospital, the doctor checked Valerie thoroughly, determined that no real harm had come to her, and verified that someone with sufficient medical skill had extracted blood.
Angela knew the lab research team had been testing the blood of wolves and she ached to confront Damon on the spot about the possibility that one of the team had kidnapped her daughter to test her blood. She restrained the impulse—she didn’t want to expose her girls to a discussion that could turn ugly.
When they returned to the mansion, she realized the girls would have to hear what she had to say because no way was she leaving them in their room alone.
She gave her little girls some toys and let them play on the floor of the master bedroom. When they were settled and occupied, she turned to Damon and forced herself to keep her voice low to avoid upsetting them. “I can’t let something like this happen ever again.”
Damon paced the floor then paused and stared out the window for a moment. “We can’t ever let this happen again,” he corrected her. “From now on, a bodyguard will watch our girls twenty-four seven.”
“That’s not good enough. I must take the girls away from this place.”
“Don’t talk crazy. I can protect you all better here than if you go away somewhere.”
“But you didn’t. And I can’t give the kidnapper another chance at our girls.” With that, she pulled the suitcase out of the closet, carried it to the girls’ room, and started throwing their clothes into it.
Damon stood in the doorway between the two rooms. “Where would you go?”
“My parents’ house tonight, and tomorrow, the girls and I will disappear.”
“Why are you doing this to us?”
“Despite Valerie’s safe return, our marriage and harmonious life are collapsing around us. I blame myself for getting pregnant and bringing our girls into our cursed family, and I blame you for bringing evil into our home.”
After getting that off of her chest, Angela brushed past Damon quickly, returned to the master bedroom, grabbed a few of her own clothes, and packed them into the remaining space. Damon followed her, grabbed the suitcase, and dumped everyone’s clothes out onto the center of the bed. Angela watched, stunned, as he shoved the empty bag back into the closet.
“Damon,” she said in a low, venomous voice, “I’m trying to stay calm for the girls’ sake, but you’re not helping with your controlling behavior.”
He wrapped his powerful, warm arms around her. “I can’t let you go. Life would be nothing without you and the girls. You and the girls are first in my life.” His eyes darkened and grew more intense. “My need for you only grows stronger. Marriage is seldom smooth and settled. It’s tempestuous, demanding, turbulent and electric, and we have the added problem of the curses, but I promise, I’ll keep you safe. You’ll be safer here than anywhere.”
“I want to believe you, but the fact is, I haven’t felt safe here since the day I moved in. And when Valerie was kidnapped right out of her own room, it proved just how dangerous this place is with its spy holes and secret passages. The three of us are leaving now and—”
“I’ll hire three bodyguards if that’s what it takes,” Damon said, trying to kiss her neck.
She fought the intoxication of his familiar male scent and the tingles rippling along her nerve endings. “Stop it, Damon. Don’t make this any harder than it is.”
“Please, Angela. If necessary, we can all camp out in the same room. You can’t leave.”
“Nothing has changed. You still trust your staff. How do you know one of those scientists isn’t some kind of ghoul? And how do I know that you didn’t authorize one of them to take Valerie’s blood for your nutty project?”
Damon dropped his hands from around her. “Do you hear yourself? Do you really think if I were going to allow such a dangerous thing that I’d hire someone to kidnap my own daughter and put her in jeopardy? You know I idolize my girls and would never put them in danger, even for an instant.”
“But you already did—by bringing all tho
se strangers onto our property. You heard what the police said. It was an inside job.”
* * * *
Damon began to pace. He’d been in crisis since the day he was born and it got worse every year. If Angela left and took his girls away, it would be the darkest moment of his life. He couldn’t allow it. Life wouldn’t be worth living without the three of them.
The intercom buzzed. “Sir,” Kyle Cooper said, “police officers Haywood and Montoya wish a word with you.”
Damon felt like his head was caught in a closing vice. “Don’t move, Angela. I have to see what the police want, then we’ll resume this discussion and come to an agreement we can both live with.”
Officer Haywood and his partner, Officer Montoya, stood waiting in the foyer with grim expressions on their faces. Officer Haywood removed his sunglasses and narrowed his brown eyes as though he’d already decided he was guilty of something. “Remember the late Dudley Knox, Angela’s former Division Chief?”
Damon stiffened at the word late.” Behind him, he heard Angela gasp. He glanced over his shoulder. She was standing at the bottom of the staircase balancing the twins on her hips. He wondered how long she’d been listening.
“When a gang of masked thugs beat Knox up a while back,” Haywood said, “he accused you of hiring them—stated that you wanted him dead.”
Damon frowned. “That’s ridiculous.”
“That remains to be seen,” Haywood said as though enjoying toying with him.
Damon understood that a few of Deeto’s motorcycle gang buddies had beaten Dudley up. He was also aware that Angela knew he was innocent of that charge. He wished the police did.
Haywood shifted his weight and tucked his thumbs into his belt. “A team of state scientists found Dudley shot through the heart in a cave just beyond your north property line.” Haywood paused and gave him a hard look. “Know anything about his murder?”
