I'll Be Home for Christmas

by Dawn Stewardson

  She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. She’d almost managed to forget Nick Sinclair’s promise to keep an eye on her, but there he was—sitting practically on her doorstep.

  “Where do they think watching the house is going to get them?” she asked, glancing at Logan again. “Do they really figure Bob might come here? Because he won’t.”

  “Then they’re just wasting their time, aren’t they,” Logan said, even though he wasn’t entirely convinced of that.

  Nothing he’d heard about Bob Weyden added up to his being a normal, logical man. So maybe the idea of his coming by, for a final visit with Ali before he disappeared again, wasn’t as improbable as she seemed to think. In fact, from all the research he’d done on the workings of the criminal mind, it wouldn’t surprise him in the least.

  That made him wonder if Ali was in denial about the possibility—to use one of her psychology terms. He didn’t suggest that, though. He merely took her arm and drew her back inside. He didn’t like the thought that Bob might show up any more than he liked the fact that the Caddy was sitting out there.

  “Oh, Logan,” she whispered as he locked the dead bolt. “What am I going to do? My life has turned into a bad TV movie. I’ve got killers watching my house, my son is heaven knows where and...and I feel stretched almost to the breaking point.”

  “You won’t want to be alone, feeling like that,” he murmured. “I’ll stay the night again.”

  When she simply nodded, he didn’t know what else to say, so he just flicked off the lights and held her. Once again, she felt absolutely perfect in his arms. And he couldn’t keep from thinking back to the way she’d kissed him this afternoon—as if she hadn’t wanted to stop at just kissing.

  But if she felt stretched almost to the breaking point she couldn’t really know what she wanted. So until she was off this emotional roller coaster Bob had put her on, Logan damned well wouldn’t risk making things even more complicated for her.

  He rested his chin lightly on the top of her head. Her hair was still cold from the air outside, but it smelled the way it always did—like a spring meadow. He loved the way she smelled. Hell, he loved everything about her. Even her shapeless fuzzy pink robe and stupid bunny slippers. But, he reminded himself, he wasn’t going to make things more complicated. This just wasn’t the time or place to take what he wanted.

  Not even when he already had it right in his arms. Not even when he wanted her so badly it was making him ache.

  * * *

  LOGAN DIDN’T KNOW what had awakened him, and for a moment he didn’t know where he was. Then the fog cleared from his brain and he remembered he’d stayed at Ali’s again. The time panel glowing on the clock radio told him it was almost 3:00 a.m.

  For a moment he just lay listening to the silence in the house, then he rolled out of bed and quietly crossed to the window. The guest room was at the front of the house, overlooking the street, and he automatically glanced in the direction of his own place.

  Palmerston Boulevard had long ago tucked in for the night, and all the Christmas lights had been turned off. But there was the damned Caddy, still where it had been earlier. Just one car in the row parked along the street. He knew it wasn’t really just one in the row, though. And he knew there still wasn’t a damned thing he could do about its being there.

  He stood watching it...thinking how convinced Ali was that the guys inside were wasting their time...thinking that she was probably right. She knew Bob a whole lot better than Nick Sinclair did, so if she figured there was no way he’d be visiting her, he likely wouldn’t. Then, just as Logan was about to head back to bed, a car came crawling along the street from the other direction.

  He focused on it. A light-colored Accord...no, it was a Taurus, moving so slowly that the driver might be checking house numbers. Logan’s adrenaline started pumping. Normally, in the middle of the night, there was no traffic at all on this street.

  By the time the Taurus was in front of Ali’s, it had slowed almost to a stop. Then it pulled into the row of parked cars, into the space across the end of her driveway, and stopped. Seconds later the headlights went out, the interior light came on, and the driver’s door opened.

  A man climbed out, and the glow from the streetlights was enough to give Logan a good look at him. He guessed the guy was in his late forties. And also guessed he was Bob Weyden. Ali had been wrong and Nick Sinclair had been right.

  Bob stood slowly gazing along the street, his car door still open and the engine still running. Logan couldn’t hear it through the closed window, but he could see the exhaust puffing into the cold night air like a tiny, ground-level cloud. He glanced from Bob to the Caddy, knowing he should do something but not knowing what.

  And then it was too late.

  Almost in the same instant, the front doors of the Caddy flew open, two figures emerged from it, and Bob Weyden dove back inside his car. The next moment the Taurus was racing in reverse, back down the street the way it had come, its engine revving loudly enough that Logan could hear it from inside.

  When Logan glanced back at the Caddy, he realized the two men had scrambled inside it again. When it wheeled out of its space, it caught the bumper of the car in front, hard enough that he heard that sound, as well. Then, with no room to turn around on the narrow street, the Caddy’s driver roared off in reverse—after the Taurus.

  His adrenaline pumping harder yet, Logan watched until the cars had disappeared. With his head start, Bob would make it to College before the Caddy did. But then what?

  What if Nick Sinclair caught up with him? What if Bob Weyden was suddenly out of the picture? If he was no longer around, issuing orders to whoever had Robbie, what would happen to him?

  It was the first question that would occur to Ali...assuming he told her what he’d just seen. So what was he going to do come morning? Tell her or not? He wandered back over to the bed and lay staring into the darkness, finally deciding he wouldn’t. Not right away, at any rate.

  The decision raised a few pangs of guilt. If he was in her shoes, he’d want to know every single thing that was relevant—wouldn’t want anyone holding back anything from him.

  But he wasn’t in her shoes, she was. And he had a feeling that anything more to worry about would push her beyond that breaking point she was so close to.

  * * *

  WHEN LOGAN WAS STILL on the phone to Cody at eight-forty the next morning, Ali began to get anxious, wishing he’d clear the line. But after he did, the phone was silent.

  By ten past nine, she was certain she was never going to hear from Robbie again. Then the phone rang, the red light on the tape recorder lit up, and her son was on the line.

  “Oh, darling,” she said, desperately trying to sound normal. “I’m so happy to hear your voice. I’ve been missing you so much.”

  “I miss you, too, Mommy. So can you come get me today?”

  “Darling...darling, I wish I could, but you’re going to have to stay there for just a little while longer.”

  “But why? I don’t wanna.”

  She swallowed hard, hearing the tears in his voice. Logan reached across the table and patted her hand. It helped, but not nearly enough.

  “That’s a hard why, Robbie,” she managed to say. “So hard that I can’t explain it over the phone. But once you’re home—”

  “But when, Mommy? When can I come home?”

  “Well...darling, I think maybe you’ll have to stay there until Friday.”

  “Is that tomorrow?”

  “No, it’s not quite tomorrow.”

  She heard him choke back a sob and hurried on, hoping he couldn’t tell she was frantic with worry. “Tomorrow’s Wednesday, Robbie. And after that there’s only Thursday left before Friday. It’s not really so very long.”

  “Is it before Christmas?”

  “Yes, darling, it’s before Christmas. You’ll be home for Christmas.”

  “But what if I’m not? Mommy, what’s gonna happen to my presents if I’m n
ot there to open them?”

  “You will be, darling. I’ll make sure you are.”

  “But what if I’m not? Santa won’t know where to find me, Mommy. He won’t know I’m here.”

  Ali held her breath, half afraid he’d say something more about where “here” was, half hoping he would. If he did, Bob might make good on his threat not to let her talk to him again. But if he said enough...

  “Mommy?” he whispered.

  “What?” she whispered back.

  “Mommy, I hate it here. She’s mean to me.”

  “Gimme that phone” a voice growled in the background. A second later, the line went dead.

  “Oh, my God,” Ali whispered. “Oh, my God.”

  “What?” Logan demanded.

  She shook her head and handed him the phone, unable to get another word out.

  He listened for an instant. Only long enough, she imagined, to hear there was nothing but a dial tone, then he rewound the tape and played it.

  “She,” he said when it finished. “She. And that sounded like a woman’s voice, didn’t it?”

  Ali nodded numbly. A man had taken Robbie. Cody had seen a man. But Robbie had just said she. And that had sounded like a woman’s voice. So how many people did Bob have helping him? And who was the she?

  “The voice,” Logan was saying. “Did it sound at all familiar?”

  “No.”

  He fiddled with the tape, then played the last bit a second time. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded again.

  “Well, even so, now we know that wherever Robbie is, he’s with a woman.”

  “A mean woman,” Ali whispered, her throat still so tight she could barely speak. “Oh, Lord, what’s this doing to him, Logan? What if he ends up scarred for life? What if...?”

  “Ali, don’t,” he said, reaching over and taking both her hands in his. “He’s not going to be scarred for life. Kids are resilient as hell. And you know what he says is mean might not count for anything. Maybe the woman hasn’t baked any cookies. That would be enough to make her mean in his books. But this is what we were hoping for—a clue.”

  Ali silently held his gaze and he realized she was waiting for him to go on, to tell her what use the clue was.

  He swore to himself. He had no idea, but he couldn’t make himself say that. She was counting on him to know what he was doing. After all, how many times had he told her they were going to make things turn out fine?

  “All right,” he said at last, looking across the table at her again. “Let’s try to figure things out. Let’s assume we were wrong about Vinny and—”

  “I was wrong, you mean,” Ali murmured. “I was the one who said it had to be him.”

  “Hey, it still could be. Maybe he was lying through his teeth yesterday. But let’s just try considering other possibilities, okay?”

  When she nodded, he went on. “Okay, let’s start with this. Aside from Vinny, who knew you’d be taking Robbie to that party?”

  “Nobody,” she said after a moment.

  “Ali, are you sure? You didn’t mention it to anyone except him?”

  She pushed her hair back from her face, saying, “The only other person I remember telling is Celeste. But she’s crazy about Robbie. She’d never, ever—”

  “Celeste? Bob’s mother? You’re saying Bob’s mother knew you were going?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Whoa. Just hold on a minute.” He rewound the tape again and played it a third time.

  “Gimme that phone” the voice said once more.

  “You’re positive,” he asked, “that couldn’t have been Celeste’s voice?”

  “No. I mean, the way it was just a hiss, I guess it could have been almost anyone. But Celeste would never say gimme like that.”

  “Okay,” Logan said, rubbing his jaw. “That doesn’t mean she’s not involved, though.”

  “Logan, she isn’t anything like Bob. She’s a typical doting grandmother and she’d never go along with something that would upset Robbie, so—”

  “Wait. Just let me think out loud for a minute, because you know this story a lot better than I do. Celeste thought Bob was dead, right? The same as everyone else?”

  “Yes...yes, I’ve never even wondered about that before, but she had to. She was so brokenhearted. Even now she still...no, it can’t possibly have been an act.”

  “Okay, then, we’ve got a woman who thinks her son is dead. Then she suddenly hears from him. But he tells her that unless she helps him he really is going to be dead—that a couple of goons are trying to kill him, and he needs your two million bucks to get away from them.

  “So where does that leave her? What does she do if she has to choose between her grandson being upset for a few days and her son being dead?”

  “Oh, Lord,” Ali whispered. “It sounds so logical when you put it like that.”

  Logan leaned back in his chair, glancing absently across the room. Then something clicked in his mind and he focused on the party invitation that was still on the fridge door.

  “Nancy,” he said, looking back at Ali. “You told me Nancy invited you to the party.”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “And she knows Bob?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And that voice? The woman with Robbie?”

  “No! Nancy would no more say gimme than Celeste would.”

  “Okay...okay, so he’s not with either of them. Which makes sense. Even if one of them is part of this, that would be too risky. You could easily show up at either of their places, right?”

  Ali nodded.

  “Okay, then, let’s say the woman is just somebody Bob’s got taking care of Robbie. But either Celeste or Nancy could have... What about Kent? Would Nancy have told him you were going to that party? Mentioned it ahead of time, I mean?”

  Logan waited impatiently for Ali’s answer, his excitement growing. Things were looking a whole lot better. One of these people had to be the key.

  “I’m not sure if Nancy would have said anything, but...” Ali pressed her fingers to her mouth as the pieces suddenly fell into place. Logan’s question about Kent had started a scene from the Christmas party replaying in her head.

  “But?” he prompted.

  “At the party. When Robbie was on your knee. I’d just started across the back of the room, to wait for him, when Kent stopped me. And by the time I’d finished talking to him, Robbie was gone.”

  “You think that was part of a plan, then? You think Kent’s the one?”

  “Yes...no. Oh, Logan, I’m getting so confused I don’t know what to think. For a second that seemed to add up, but it can’t be Kent. He never even met Bob.”

  Logan swore silently. He’d figured they had it and they didn’t. Not yet. But something had to add up. “Okay, go back to when Kent stopped you, and tell me the details. What did he say? Was Nancy with him?”

  “No. He said she’d gone to her office for something.”

  “You mean she was out of the room? When Robbie was grabbed?”

  “It was a man who took him,” she said, not certain Logan was suggesting what he seemed to be. “It couldn’t have been Nancy, because Cody saw a man.”

  “I know, but—okay, go on. Kent stopped you and said...?”

  “Something about suspecting that Nancy was involved with somebody else. And that he thought I’d know whether she was.”

  “And is she?”

  “I don’t think so. Not that she’s told me about, at least. But Kent said—I can’t remember exactly—oh, he’d overheard bits of some phone calls she’d gotten, that was it. And he thought there was something strange going on—something she didn’t want to talk about it in front of him. He seemed sure there was something Nancy was keeping from him.”

  “Something like she was helping Bob plan a kidnapping?” Logan said.

  Chapter Ten

  An hour later, they were still going around in circles.

  Logan paced back across the l
iving room, then sank onto the couch beside Ali, saying, “Okay, let’s go through this one more time. Could be we’ve been missing something critical.”

  She nodded, although they’d already gone over everything so many times she couldn’t believe they’d missed even the tiniest detail. And she also couldn’t believe either Celeste or Nancy had teamed up with Bob.

  Of course, she knew part of the problem was that she didn’t want to believe it. Because if she considered only the logic of the situation, she knew one of them must have. Unless Vinny really had been lying through his teeth, either Nancy or Celeste had told Bob about that party.

  Nancy had been her friend for years, though. And even if Logan’s hypothesis was right...

  “Maybe,” he’d suggested a while ago, “Bob offered her a share of the insurance money if she helped him out.” But the idea of Nancy going along with a proposal like that seemed inconceivable—even if Bob had offered her the entire two million.

  The thought of Robbie’s grandmother helping kidnap him seemed almost as incredible. Still, Celeste would have been helping kidnap him for his own father. She could have convinced herself that he’d be perfectly safe with Bob. So, possibly...

  “Okay,” Logan said, “the only reason we’ve been assuming a man took Robbie is because of what Cody said. But all he really saw was an arm. And a hand in a glove. So it could easily have been a woman, wearing a man’s coat and gloves. Or maybe Cody only thought the clothes were a man’s.”

  “And Robbie would have gone with either Nancy or Celeste without making a fuss,” Ali murmured, feeling as if she had her lines memorized by this point.

  “And if it was Nancy, then she probably got Kent involved—asked him to stop you to give her the time she needed. Otherwise, it would have been one hell of a coincidence, wouldn’t it?”

  “I...yes, it would.” She closed her eyes for a moment, hoping it would help clear her head. Every time she started thinking it just might be one of them, Logan seemed to be thinking it was the other. “You’re leaning toward Nancy, then?” she asked at last.

  Logan hesitated, then said, “No, actually I’m not. Coincidences do happen. And Celeste is a more obvious bet. After all, we keep coming back to the fact that Bob would have told her she’d be helping save his life. And that would be motivation for a mother to do just about anything.”