by Reid, Angela
“Don’t … Don’t say it. We are past all of the bad things. I love you too. We have the rest of our lives to make up for those lost years,” I replied, pulling him into me. “When did you do this? You’ve never left me, not for a moment.”
“Lucas helped me, and he delivered it today. I planned to propose tonight, at home, over a romantic dinner. It took forever to get this thing made, or I would’ve proposed a long time ago.”
“It’s beautiful, and I love it. It’s so perfect.” We kissed until our son demanded attention.
The doctor came in after the second day to evaluate me for discharge. I was doing well as was Cayden Samuel Cantrell. “Ellia, we miscalculated your due date,” he said, with a raised eyebrow. “I am guessing you conceived about three or four weeks earlier than we originally estimated. He is healthy and so are you. You guys can go home as soon as the nurse comes in with the paperwork.” He smiled and patted my knee.
“Thanks doc,” said Cade, shaking his hand, and grinning. When the physician left, he stared at me with a wide grin, his face full of joy.
“What?” I asked, always happy to see him pleased but not sure what had brought on this sudden elation.
“Didn’t you hear what he said?” He looked at me like I was clueless. “Cayden is term, Ellia. He’s mine. It really doesn’t matter, but I know it means a lot to you. Honestly, I can’t help being just a little glad about it, too, though.”
I cried, so delighted for all of us, as I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he held me. The news seemed a sign of good things to come.
Chapter 18
My mother arrived the first day home from the hospital to help with the baby and give us much needed advice. The baby was sleeping when she first got there, so she took me aside to show me what she’d brought with her. Both of Cade’s guitars, the ones that had flanked his empty casket so many years prior, lay side by side in the trunk of her car.
“I never told you I kept these. Your pain was so deep, I was afraid you would destroy them. I held on to them hoping you would someday cherish them, but now he can use them again. Does he sing or play anymore?” she asked.
“Mom … Oh Mom, I have no words. You’ve had them all these years? I just want to cry right now,” I said, tears welling. “He will be ecstatic, I’m sure of it. He hasn’t played an instrument, or written anything since the night he got shot.”
Cade was in the shower while we put the guitars in his home office. My mother also brought the notebook full of songs he’d composed when he was a young. His band had broken up after Cade’s death, and the music died with him. The songs were his, though, and if he ever wanted to revive them, they were his to do so. I leafed through the spiral bound pages and found the love song he had written for me. Reading those words took me back there, and the tears were bittersweet.
When Cade joined us in the kitchen, I was blowing my nose. He immediately crossed the room and touched me, his face full of concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked
“Nothing,” I said and smiled. “These hormones just make me cry over everything--no worries. I guess I had a twinge of nostalgia.” I went to the fridge and pulled out lunch meat and condiments. He didn’t seem convinced. “Seriously, Cade, all is well. I will make sandwiches while mom unpacks. Catch up any pending work, and then we can visit.”
“Your mom just got here; work can wait” he said and sat down next to her.
“You go ahead and finish what you need to, honey, while I put my things in the guest room. We have two weeks to visit with each other.” She smiled a sly grin.
“Okay?” said Cade, drawing out the word and making it a question. “You two are obviously trying to get rid of me, so I guess I will go.” He smiled at us and left the room. A few minutes later, the strum of his acoustic instrument filled the house. We walked in on him, sitting with his favorite guitar, tears in his eyes. He looked up and brushed the tears away, embarrassed by his emotions. My mom crossed the room and they embraced. “I wondered what happened to these. I’m so happy you kept them, Beth, you’ll never realize what this means. Thank you.”
“Oh, I can guess, honey,” she said, stepping back. “This was your life once, and it came only second to my daughter. I hope you enjoy them.”
“God, it’s been so long, I’m not sure I remember how to play.” He laughed with a nervous edge, as if he believed his words. He sat back down and tuned the guitar. “Amazing,” he muttered to himself. My mom and I retreated, leaving him alone to reacquaint himself with what used to be a third arm. We sat in the kitchen, and it wasn’t long before the sound of an old song erupted from the office.
“God, it’s good to hear that sound again. Our lives got so far off track.”
“But you still ended up together, Ellia, and that’s all that matters. I wish you both hadn’t suffered so much, but at least you are here now,” she said with such heaviness, I could feel the weight of her pain.
“Do you still miss Randy?” I asked. “I never told you how sorry I am for not being there for you when he passed. Cade’s death swallowed me so completely, I couldn’t step outside that grief to help anyone else. Even when I was with Matt, I remained lost in so many ways. I tried hard to love him, and to move on, but I was a shell of person. Mom, I am sorry for being so damn selfish and not much of a daughter.”
“I won’t lie and say it didn’t hurt, but I understood why. Losing Randy was tough, but I had friends, so I wasn’t alone. The worst year of our lives was the one after Cade died, Ellia, and I didn’t want to drag you back down into that depression with my sorrow. Helping you with your addiction was the only decent thing your dad ever did. I truly believe he saved your life. You were beyond my reach, and if he had not stepped in, you would be dead. It’s all in the past, though. I still miss Randy sometimes, but at least he went quick and with no pain. There was no suffering for him.” she said, looking sad and thoughtful. “I am sorry about Matt. You may not have loved him like you love Cade, but you obviously cared about him. His death … the way he died … well, it’s just another tragedy in a long list. Don’t spend your time feeling guilty about the things you can’t change, honey. You did the best you could, and that is all anyone could ask.”
I hugged my mother tight, hoping to convey the depth of my feelings. “I hope that one day we will all be free from the past and from the sins of others. The prosecutor indicted Rodney Camerson this week, Mom. Any day now, I’ll be subpoenaed to testify against him. It casts a pretty big shadow on our happiness with Cayden. This pending trial has stressed Cade for months, and I worry about his health. I am so glad he didn’t jump back into this case when Lucas asked him to, at least in a physical sense. I’d be lost and scared to death without him here. Even though I am terrified to get on that stand and testify, it’ll be a relief when it’s over, once and for all.”
“It will never be over until your bastard father is six feet under, but I agree with you. What does the FBI plan to do to keep you safe until the trial ends?”
“Well, Cade has talked about just leaving the country and not testifying at all, but I can’t do that. That son-of-a-bitch was behind the deaths of countless people, including Sam and Matt. What Dacks and his men did to you was under his orders. I cannot let that go unpunished. Cade’s focus was to nail dad, but Camerson is tied up with him. He’s another cog in this wheel, and the only way to get complete closure is to bring the wrath of justice to them all.”
Cayden’s cries broke our thoughts. “Let me get him,” offered my mother. “I can’t wait to see my first grandchild.”
My mom returned in short time with my squalling son. “This handsome fella might be hungry, Momma,” she said, handing him over to me. I sat down in my favorite chair and took the baby. He was an eager eater and latched on at once. “So how does it feel to be a mother, Ellia?” she asked, curling her legs up under her on the sofa.
“Scary as hell,” I replied with a smirk. “In all seriousness, motherhood is the most wondrous thing. It’s amazin
g how many kinds of love the human heart can hold. This love is so overwhelming, I can’t imagine anything bigger.” Tears filled my eyes, and I laughed. “Oh--these damn hormones.” I wiped my face with Cayden’s burp cloth.
Cade’s hand landed on my shoulder, and he leaned down and kissed me on the head, then touched Cayden’s cheek, before joining my mother on the couch. “What would you like me to make you for dinner, Beth?”
“I am here to take care of you guys. You need not cook, honey; I can do that for you.” She patted his knee. “Just rest and bond with your son.” She got up and headed into the kitchen, but Cade followed her.
I fed the baby and handed him off to my mother before retiring for a quick nap. Cade said he’d wake me when dinner was ready. I woke to the sound of the fire alarms and the smell of something burning on the stove. At once, I flew out of bed and ran to the smoke filled kitchen. A small flame had erupted in a pan on the burner, which I extinguished at once.
“Hey you guys,” I yelled. “Where are you?” My heart filled with panic. Cade was never careless. He would not leave food on a flame unattended unless there was good reason.
I looked in his office, but it was empty. The deck was bare as a storm brewed on the horizon. Time seemed to go in slow motion as I raced to the baby’s room, my stomach already in my throat. When I opened the door, my mother lay on the floor, as if she had laid down on the carpet for a nap. She was unresponsive but alive, with no obvious trauma to her body.
“I was baffled. I thought of Cayden, and I got to my feet to get him. The crib was empty. My befuddled mind tried to decide if it was another nightmare or if a hellish truth consumed my reality. I searched the house, shrieking for Cade while dialing 911, having no understanding what could be happening. The operators dispatched officers while I ran to the garage where my heart stopped. I could see Cade’s motionless legs on the floor, just on the other side of the car, and I froze, too afraid to discover his body. If he was dead, I’d be forever lost. There would be no coming back from this mental break. My awareness would go so far away, and I would never find myself again. Stop it, Ellia. Cade is not your entire world. You have a son. Keep your shit together for that baby. The little voice inside me was correct—I had to find my child no matter what Cade’s condition. My son remained the anchor to keep me grounded.
I willed my feet to move, and it was a monumental effort, that separation of mind and body trying so hard to occur. Once I got my physical self to obey for the first two steps, my control returned, and I ran to him. I saw him moving just as I rounded the car--he was alive.
“Thank God,” I said out loud as I hit my knees next to him. “Cade.” I put my hands on his face. The back of his head bled, but it didn’t seem serious. His eyes fluttered open. “Wake up, Cade!” I screamed into his face. “Cayden’s gone! Get up and help me.” My voice had reached the frantic level.
He got to his feet but stumbled around like a drunk, dizzy from the blow to his skull. The look on face was blank.
“What happened, Cade?” I sobbed, digging my nails into his arm. “My mom is unconscious and Cayden is missing. My baby is gone!”
Understanding dawned on him, and he ran back into the house, stumbling down the hall with his compromised equilibrium. I was on his heels as we entered Cayden’s room where my mother lay. He turned and looked at me. “What happened to her?” he asked.
“I don’t fucking know. I found her here and you out there. Cayden is nowhere. Where the hell is …” I stared at Cade, so stricken with fear I could barely make a comprehensible sentence.
“Are you still with me?” he asked, searching my face. “I need you to stay with me. I can’t do this without you.”
He referred to my mental state, but I already planned to keep myself together for my son. “Yes, I’m okay. I won’t leave Cayden out there. We have to find him.”
“We will, I promise,” he said, then went to the phone. The first police car arrived while Cade talked to the FBI on his work cell. Within a few hours the house was full of cops and FBI agents. They moved around me in swirls of color and activity, but it was hard to keep focus. My mom was conscious but groggy when the EMT’s took her away, and I was grateful. No way could I leave the scene to be with her though. My son was missing, and he was my priority.
Local police took our statements before the FBI arrived, and my mother couldn’t remember anything other than going into Cayden’s room to put him down for a nap. Cade had gone to the garage to get a screw driver to fix the handle on a pot lid. Neither of them saw or heard anything amiss.
“Are you all right?” asked Cade, putting his hand on my shoulder, making me jump.
“Do you think my dad is behind this or Camerson?” The sobbing broke free again.
“My money is on Camerson.”
“The prosecuting attorney hasn’t even subpoenaed my testimony yet. Why would he come for me … for Cayden? Is it because he’s a fucking Cantrell—another descendant of Zachariah?”
He stared at me as if that thought had not occurred to him. “Do you blame me for this, too?” Someone waved him over, and he walked away to consult with his coworkers before I could answer.
I ran to the bathroom, not sure if I blamed him or not. My mind was in too much distress to consider culpability. My milk came in, and I felt the front of my shirt dampen. It was time to feed the baby, but he was gone. I stuffed my fist into my mouth to stifle the scream that threatened to erupt from me.
Get your shit together, Ellia. Your son needs you. Cade needs you. Stop playing the helpless victim and do whatever you have to do find your child. No more hiding in a selfish coma because you are too chicken shit to deal. My inner monologue spurred me on, helping me gather the strength not to slip away into that safe place in my mind. I dried my eyes, realizing that Cade couldn’t be here for me this time. Cayden was his too, and the truest love of his life. I had to keep it together and not be a burden. I tried to convince myself Camerson would not torture my baby for a stupid manufactured vendetta, yet I knew better. There was no level of humanity among any of those men. We had to locate him quickly.
When I emerged, Cade was on the phone looking so angry I thought he would pop a blood vessel. He only gave me a glance as I entered the room. I surveyed the scene and saw Lucas standing with Agent Roberts. Boxes of files were being delivered, along with computer equipment. They’d turned the house into a command post. An Amber alert had been issued and a full-on statewide and intrastate search was in progress. I found it odd that Willow wasn’t present. She was Cade’s coworker and his friend.
I made coffee for everyone and then went to Cayden’s nursery. The hours seemed to melt into each other, as I sat in the rocking chair, holding his blanket. The sun was rising outside the window when Cade came looking for me. He didn’t speak at first, his eyes were weary from stress and exhaustion. He crossed the room, pulled me from the seat, hugging me so tight I thought my ribs would crack. I returned the embrace as he started to cry, his body shaking with the effort.
“Shh …” I said into his ear. “It’s going to be okay. I know we will find him. We won’t stop until we do.” I rubbed his back gently. “This isn’t your fault. I never meant to infer such a thing. Cade, you need to rest. You’re injured and so exhausted.”
He looked at me, his eyes bloodshot and weepy. “I can’t rest until we find him, I won’t. Jesus, I’ve never felt this fucking desperate. How did this happen? God … I am such a miserable failure, Ellia. You deserve so much better than me, someone who can keep you and our child safe.”
“Stop it, Cade. What could you have done besides lock us all in a steel room? Whoever did this knew how to get in here undetected. It’s not your fault. We can’t waste time on that way of thinking.” I kissed his lips softly. “You need to rest now, though. You can’t think straight between the fatigue and your injury. Please just lay down for a short while. I will stay vigil and wake you if anything happens. You have a houseful of your Bureau people here; let them hand
le it.” I could see the helpless frustration in his face. He was used to being in control of situations, and this was one he had no clue with how to deal. I took his hand and led him to our bedroom. “Lay down and close your eyes,” I said, gently pushing him down on the bed. He fell asleep at once, and I slipped out of the room.
I returned to Cayden’s nursery for an hour or so and then decided to check in again with the agents milling about my house. I went into the living room where the activity continued. I approached Agent Roberts. “Do you know anything yet?” I asked.
He laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Ellia, we really don’t. A neighbor saw a white Ford Flex parked down the street a little ways, and we are pursuing that avenue right now. The abduction took place in broad daylight with all your alarms activated, yet no one or saw or heard a thing. Cade had this house locked down like Fort Knox, so someone knew your pass codes. We have fingerprinted every room, and, so far, they match everyone they should.”
Something about that struck me. “Whose prints did you find?” I asked, not knowing why, but a nagging feeling was gnawing at the edges of my mind.
“Yours and Cade’s are all over the house, including your mother’s. We also found Agent Rodriquez and Agent Mendiola’s prints in the house, but Cade confirmed they had been here. Latent prints belonging to Matt Holloway existed as well.”
“Where were Agent Mendiola’s prints?” I asked. “Were they in the baby’s room?” He gave me an odd look but went to the table to review a piece of paper.
“Yes, they were located on the door knob and the crib rail,” he said, looking up at me.
“Agent Roberts, Willow was never in Cayden’s nursery. I was still pregnant when she was here, and we didn’t even own that crib yet. Her prints should not be in there.” Hysteria bubbled under the surface. Roberts had a strange expression on his face, eyebrows furrowed, as if he was trying to think of something. “You do realize she and Cade were involved once don’t you?” I asked him. “Can we start thinking outside the obvious conclusion about Camerson? This might not have anything to do with him, and everything to do with her.”
