by Jayne Castle
Sabrina knew she’d needed sleep, but other than a couple of hours of dozing she’d grabbed on the jet, she hadn’t managed to get any. It was dawn now and she’d been lying awake since she’d gone to bed. Might as well get up. She glanced at her Mickey Mouse watch, which she hadn’t bothered to remove. In another couple of hours Alex would be opening the shop in Dallas. She’d call him after she and Brad had eaten breakfast.
Pushing back the covers, Sabrina picked up her jeans and the shirt she had been wearing last evening.
She was going to have to do some washing this afternoon. Neither she nor Brad had a change of clothes.
But the shower worked, and standing under the pounding hot water revived her somewhat. By the time she emerged, Sabrina was feeling more alert. She strolled out into the kitchen of the old cottage and rummaged in the cupboards for the packages of instant coffee her father always left behind.
As she heated water she glanced around at the familiar rustic walls, the worn throw rugs, and the miscellaneous furniture with which the cottage had been furnished. She’d spent a lot of weekends here when she was younger. Bennet Chase had brought his children to the coast as often as possible.
Looking back now, it struck Sabrina that her father probably hadn’t enjoyed those trips nearly as much as his children did. There were undoubtedly several weekends when he would have preferred to unwind in the comfort of his own home, after a hard week’s work, rather than get into the car and make the long drive to the coast with three kids. It couldn’t have been easy for a staid banker to keep track of a bunch of lively children at the beach.
But her father, for all his domineering tendencies, had never made her or his sons feel they were a burden to him. Bennet Chase had chosen to raise his children alone, and he’d done it to the best of his ability. Sabrina still remembered that day during her twelfth year when he had taken her aside and tried to explain in a gentle, matter-of-fact manner the changes that were taking place in her body. She had been acutely embarrassed at the time and had hastened to inform him that the school nurse had already gone over the matter. Bennet Chase had been greatly relieved. But she had to admire him now for the way he’d been determined to carry out his responsibility.
Sabrina poured the boiling water over the instant coffee and sat down at the round oak table in front of the window. The cabin didn’t get used very often anymore. Jeffrey and Nolan occasionally occupied it on holidays, but not very frequently. And Bennet Chase was currently dating a widow in Portland, so he spent most of his weekends there.
Strange how, when she’d needed a place to run to, this was the place that had seemed to offer a haven. This was where she had been allowed to run free. Here she had learned to swim and dig clams. Here her brothers and father had seemed more relaxed and playful, less inclined to tell her what to do and how to do it. It was here that she’d seen the side of Bennet Chase and the Brothers Grim that she liked best, Sabrina realized; a more casual, less authoritarian side.
She thought about Matt, who hadn’t called his parents in months. For all her attempts to sidestep her family’s efforts to control her, she had never lost contact with them. Sabrina grimaced wryly, thinking of the regular weekly phone calls. God knew she hadn’t lost contact!
Growing up in an all-male household had been a chore, to say the least, but she had survived quite well, all things considered. And eventually she had established a clearly separate lifestyle. She knew she had disappointed her father with her change in career and that her brothers disapproved of her direction in life, but they had never withdrawn their affection or support. That support had remained unwavering, even when her name was being plastered across the newspapers. She had avoided the rift that seemed to have developed between Matt and his parents.
Looking back from the comfort of this cottage, it occurred to Sabrina that the only reason she had avoided the same fate was because her family had refused to let it happen. In spite of scandal, disapproval, and disappointment, no one had any intention of cutting off the black sheep of the family.
It said a lot for Bennet Chase and the ties he’d forged among his children that nothing had completely severed those bonds.
Sabrina thought about that, seeing her father from a slightly new perspective. Whatever else had happened, there had never been any hint of rejection; not the kind Brad had suffered and not the kind Matt had endured. Bennet Chase had accomplished something special in spite of the fact that he was a sober, domineering, autocratic banker.
He had created a home.
It was odd, Sabrina thought, sipping her coffee—she hadn’t quite realized that until this minute. It was even stranger, after all these years of sidestepping the various and assorted pressures of her family, that she suddenly thought it might be satisfying to create a home for someone else. Someone named Matt August.
She wondered idly if Matt realized how much he needed a home for himself and his son.
Sabrina glanced at her watch. Time to call Alex. “Brad? Are you awake?”
The answer took the form of a sleepy rumble from the second bedroom, the room that had been Nolan and Jeffrey’s.
“We have to go call Alex.”
“Can’t I stay here?” Brad muttered into the pillow.
Sabrina went to the bedroom door. She didn’t want to tell him that she didn’t dare let him out of her sight until she’d heard something about his father. “Sorry, kid. Up and at ‘em. You can take a nap later on today.”
One of the things Sabrina was learning about adolescent boys was that they seemed to take as much time in the bathroom as women who were dressing for an evening out on the town. Twenty minutes later Sabrina was still waiting impatiently for Brad to emerge. When he finally ambled out wearing the fatigues he’d had on yesterday, she gave him a sardonic glance.
“Looks like two bathrooms are going to be a minimum for this family.”
He looked at her, surprise in his eyes. “Yeah?” Then he nodded, as if digesting the implications of the remark. “Yeah, I guess that would be a good idea.”
“Come on, kid, let’s go call Alex and see if he’s heard anything.”
Fifteen minutes later Sabrina was standing in the old phone booth outside the small general store that was the sole source of the community’s groceries. Her fingers clamped fiercely around the receiver as Alex came on the line.
“Sabrina! Am I glad to hear from you. Hold tight, lady, the cavalry’s on its way.”
“What are you talking about?” she demanded, hardly daring to hope.
“Just heard from Matt.”
“Oh, my God, Alex. He’s all right, then?” Sabrina sagged against the phone booth and tossed a weak, reassuring grin at Brad, who was sitting in the car.
“Other than the fact that he’s doing a bit of unscheduled island-hopping. He’ll be there as soon as possible. The bad news is that he isn’t sure when that will be. At any rate, I have instructions to tell you to bolt the doors and hold the fort until you see the whites of his eyes.”
Alex quickly explained what Sabrina had already guessed—that Coyne’s two men in blue were indeed after Brad, with the intention of holding the boy as insurance for Matt’s cooperation.
“Hang on, Sabrina. It’s all going to be over soon. Remember the Alamo!”
“Geez, Alex, you’re so inspirational.” But the relief flowing through her was enough to make her light-headed.
“I try,” Alex said modestly. “How are you and the kid holding up?”
“Much better now that I’ve talked to you. Take care, Alex, and thanks for everything.”
“Are we talking a raise here?”
“We’re talking warm gratitude. Don’t soil the purity of the moment with talk of money.”
“It would make my mother happy.”
“Nothing is going to convince her that you’ve got a good job. Not as long as there are armadillos involved. See you soon, Alex.”
She hung up the phone and grinned at Brad. “Your father is fine. He�
��s on his way.”
“Here?” The relief in Brad’s eyes told her just how anxious the boy had been.
“Right here. As soon as he can get out of the Caribbean. Come on, let’s go buy some cereal and milk and something for dinner. Who knows? Maybe Matt will be here by then. We’d better buy enough for three.”
But Matt was not there by dinner. Sabrina and Brad ate in a companionable atmosphere, speculating on what Griffin and Shadwell might be doing and where Matt was at the moment.
“You, uh, think you and Dad might stick together when this is all over?” Brad finally asked as he helped Sabrina clear the table.
She knew he was trying to sound casual. “It’s a possibility.” God, how she hoped it was a possibility. “A lot would depend on what Matt wants.”
“I think he wants to stay with you,” Brad said carefully. “But …”
Sabrina held her breath. “But what?”
“Well, I was talking to Cindy and she says people will notice that you and Dad aren’t, well, uh, married,” Brad blurted.
And that would be embarrassing for Brad, Sabrina realized with startled perception. She slid him a sidelong glance. “I thought you modern kids didn’t worry about things like that.”
“Living together’s okay for some people. But not for you and Dad.” Brad concentrated fiercely on the pot he was drying.
“Why not?” Sabrina pressed.
Brad’s shoulders moved uneasily. “It’s just different for you guys. That’s all.”
Wisely Sabrina decided not to pursue the subject. She thought she knew what was going on in his head. Brad wanted some security. Whereas he had once viewed Sabrina as a threat, he seemed to have adjusted to her presence in his father’s life. Therefore he had decided that presence should be formalized.
“You know what I think?” Sabrina said mildly.
“What?”
“I think you kids have a double standard. You expect adults to live by one set of rules while you live by another.”
“Well, you are grown-ups,” he pointed out logically.
“One of the privileges of being a grown-up is that you can make a lot of your own rules, Brad,” she tried to explain gently.
“Well, I guess so.” Sabrina noticed that he mulled over the information with a serious expression on his young, Matt-like features. “But Cindy thinks you ought to get married,” he insisted stubbornly.
Given that irrefutable argument, Sabrina retired from the fray.
Matt had still not arrived by ten o’clock that evening. Brad, exhausted by the limited sleep and the excitement, finally went to bed, telling Sabrina to wake him when his father arrived.
Sabrina couldn’t sleep, even knowing how much she needed the rest by now. She sank into the depths of the old overstuffed sofa and absently turned the pages of an out-of-date magazine someone had left behind. The fire she and Brad had built crackled invitingly on the hearth. She ought to go to bed. No telling when Matt would arrive. Perhaps not until morning.
The light she had been using to read by winked and went out along with every other light in the house at five minutes after eleven.
Sabrina froze as the sudden darkness descended. Jerking to her feet, she reminded herself that it was not unheard of to lose electricity this far from a major city. But there had been no storm, which was usually the case when the lights flickered and disappeared.
She stood tensely in the middle of the small living room, letting her eyes adjust to the faltering light provided by the fading fire. Her father was an orderly man. He always kept a flashlight in a kitchen drawer. Taking a grip on her nerves, she walked into the other room and fumbled until she found the right drawer. Sabrina breathed a sigh of relief when the batteries proved to be still alive. It shouldn’t have surprised her. Her father was the kind of man who paid attention to details. It occurred to Sabrina that if Matt kept a flashlight around it would always be in working condition.
Swinging the light in an arc around the kitchen, Sabrina double-checked the locks on the windows. She’d already checked them three times that evening. The violent pounding on the front door nearly made her drop the flashlight.
“Matt!” she whispered in overwhelming relief. Eagerly she raced into the living room. “Matt, is that you?”
“Open the door, Miss Chase. We want the boy.”
Sabrina steadied herself, grabbing the arm of the sofa for support. Griffin! Griffin was out there, and that meant Shadwell was around, too. She said nothing, trying to pull her jangled nerves together.
“Open the door or we’ll be forced to break in. You are obstructing government agents, Miss Chase. A grave federal offense.”
Sabrina forced herself to move, stubbing her toe against the leg of the sofa as she bent down to lift up the corner of the rug. The old board was stubborn at first. It had always been stubborn. Bennet Chase hadn’t wanted anyone discovering the small floor safe underneath by mistake.
Oh, God, it had been so long since she’d memorized the combination. Nolan’s birthday. Was that the twenty-eighth of August or was that Jeffrey’s? She always got them mixed up. Her fingers shook violently as she spun the combination. Nothing happened. It must be November fifteenth. It had to be one or the other.
On the second try the lock clicked and she wrenched open the heavy steel door. The Smith and Wesson was still inside, the ammunition lying next to it. Bennet Chase had felt there were certain skills a man should know, regardless of what he did for a living. And he’d had a daughter who had insisted on learning the things her brothers had been taught. When she’d turned sixteen and antimilitary she had decided that guns were disgustingly macho manifestations, representative of the kind of arrogant male fantasizing that had gotten the world into so much trouble. Sabrina had suggested her father get rid of his. He’d smiled vaguely and told her that some kind of protection was necessary here at this isolated cabin. She’d argued that having a gun around fostered a basically violent, military mentality. Bennet Chase had explained he was a banker. She had no need to worry.
She’d quoted statistics that proved people who kept guns in the home were far more likely to be injured by them than they were to actually use them in self-defense. Bennet Chase said he assumed he’d taught her sufficient respect for the weapon that she wasn’t likely to get hurt with it.
With unsteady hands Sabrina lifted the .38 out of the safe and loaded it.
“You have one more chance, Miss Chase. If you do not open the door this minute, we’ll come in anyway.”
Sabrina drew a deep breath and knelt on the rug, pointing the weapon at the door. “I have a gun,” she called out, vaguely astonished that her voice still worked.
“There’s no point playing games, Miss Chase. We’re here to take the boy. This is government business.”
“Screw the government.”
A stunned silence greeted that remark. And then a roar sounded outside. Griffin must have seen some film in which the hero had shot the lock off the door, Sabrina thought hysterically. Unfortunately, after another shot, the attempt worked.
“Sabrina?” Brad’s stunned voice sounded from the hall just as the front door swung open with a slam. The man who bulled into the room was illuminated by the glare of the flashlight Sabrina had propped up on a stack of books.
“Get down on the floor, Brad. Stay there.” She didn’t look in his direction. She was focusing completely on Griffin.
“This has gone far enough, lady.”
“Get out of here.”
“Why, you little bitch!” He raised his hand, his left one, and let her see the gun he was holding. He didn’t see hers in the shadows; probably didn’t even believe she had one until Sabrina pulled the trigger.
The blast roared through the cottage. It was accompanied by a scream of rage and pain as Griffin spun backward into the night. The door swung slowly shut behind him.
A shocking silence fell on the cottage and then, through sheer force of will, Sabrina managed to get to her feet. The
re were things that had to be done.
“Quick, Brad, help me get this sofa over there.”
Brad got up off the floor, staring at her in the weak firelight. “You shot him.” He looked dazed. “You shot a government agent.”
“If that was an official government employee, then the Civil Service had better have another look at its hiring policies. Give me a hand, Brad.” She realized the boy was in shock. “Hey, that’s the guy that Alex had to beat up a couple of days ago. Remember? I didn’t kill him, you know.”
“You didn’t?”
“No. I was probably lucky to hit his shoulder. Hopefully the left one, since Alex already took care of his right one.” She heaved against the heavy old sofa. She was shaking, Sabrina realized. She didn’t have any way of knowing whether she might have just killed a man. Griffin might be lying in a pool of blood just outside the door. The knowledge was sickening. But the notion of letting Griffin have Brad was unbearable.
Brad finally released himself from his stunned paralysis and came to her assistance. “Geez, Sabrina. What do we do now?”
Damned if I know, Sabrina thought wildly. But you weren’t supposed to say things like that to a kid who was looking to you for protection. Maternal types were supposed to sound totally in command of the situation. Aloud she said, “Now that we’ve got the door blocked I think our biggest problem is going to be the windows. Anyone trying to get through them would have a job on their hands. Let’s close the doors to the bedrooms. If anyone enters through a bedroom window, he’ll have to open the door and that will give us some warning.”
There was uneasy silence outside the cabin as Sabrina crawled on her hands and knees across the floor to pull the bedroom doors shut. Brad watched her with wide, anxious eyes.
“Maybe we should build a barricade or something,” he suggested when she returned to his side.
