by B. J Daniels
But he told himself that he’d put the past behind him. He was a changed man with a bright future. Screw Larry Wagner.
* * *
MARK SAT DOWN at his desk and pushed the stack of mail to the side. Exhaustion pulled at him. He hadn’t gotten but a few hours’ sleep since Maggie had disappeared. He rubbed the back of his neck and told himself he was doing everything possible to find her, but it felt as if he was swimming through quicksand.
“Celeste Duma is here,” the dispatcher said over his intercom.
He sighed, not sure he was up to another bout with that woman. But if Celeste had taken Maggie... “Take her and her lawyer into the interrogation room. I’ll be right there.”
When he found her waiting, he was surprised to see that she’d come alone. No husband. No lawyer. “Are we waiting for your attorney?” he asked.
She shook her head. “He gets paid too much to sit and listen to your inane accusations. Anyway, I have nothing to hide.”
Mark didn’t believe that for a moment. He smiled, shocked by her arrogance. She thought she was above the law. Flint was now on paid leave. Was that what she’d wanted all along? To hurt him?
He turned on the video camera, gave the date and time, and introduced himself and Celeste Duma.
“Is that really necessary?” she asked, nodding toward the device.
He wanted to laugh since just moments before she’d taken out her compact to check her hair and makeup. It took all his patience not to say something smart about it. He just hoped this wasn’t a huge waste of time. There was still no word on Maggie.
Mark felt as if he could be doing more anywhere but in this room with this woman. He doubted Celeste could tell the truth if she had a gun to her head. If this woman had taken Maggie, then Maggie was as good as dead. He had a man tailing Celeste, so he knew that she hadn’t been anywhere but here since returning home. If she’d taken Maggie, then like she’d said, she wouldn’t be returning her. Nor would she be returning to wherever she’d taken her to give her food and water.
“I’m curious,” Mark said. “Why do you hate Maggie Thompson so much?”
Celeste gave him a wry smile. “My lawyer said I don’t have to tell you anything.” Her chin went up in naked defiance.
“Then what are you doing here and without your lawyer? You really must hate her. Rather than help us find her, you’re doing everything possible to hurt her.”
“How can you say that?” she demanded.
“If you really had nothing to do with Maggie’s disappearance, then why are you wasting our time and resources to find out where you’ve been since she disappeared? Is all this just because you can’t stand the thought of your ex-husband being happy?”
“Maggie wouldn’t have made him happy.”
“Interesting that you’re talking about her in the past tense.”
Celeste shrugged and looked at the camera. For the first time, she seemed nervous. “I just meant...if someone took her, then she’s probably dead.” Her gaze returned to him. “Isn’t that the rule? If you don’t find her in the first twenty-four hours, she’s probably dead?”
He shuddered inwardly at her lack of empathy. “I’m not sure that’s a rule, but yes, it’s important that we find Maggie as quickly as possible.” He was tired of playing games with this woman. It was time to take the gloves off. “Look, if this is about ruining Flint’s life, haven’t you already done a pretty good job of that?”
She looked aghast. “He loved me. What we had together was—”
“Was so special that you left him for another man. So that’s it. You just don’t want him to love anyone else.”
“He doesn’t love her the way he does me.”
He raised a brow. “You think he still loves you?”
“I meant the way he loved me.”
“How can you be so sure he doesn’t love Maggie more?”
She gave him a horrified look, then laughed. “That’s ridiculous. She’s...she’s a nobody, a beautician.”
“Then why are you so intimidated by her?”
Celeste shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “I’m not. I just know that she’s all wrong for him. I don’t want him to make the biggest mistake of his life.”
“I’m pretty sure he already did that.”
She looked like she might erupt.
He quickly cut off the explosion. “Why do you think you have the right to tell him what to do or not do?”
“Because I still care.”
“Maybe, but if you did, you’d give him your blessing and you’d help us find Maggie.”
“I already told you—”
“Tell me where you went after you drove by your ex-husband’s house and saw Maggie.”
“I didn’t see her. I saw her car. I saw that she was moving in.”
“And you stopped to confront her.”
She met his gaze. “No. I stepped on the gas and sped out of town.”
He swore and slammed a hand down on the table between them, making her jump. “Where did you go? The truth this time. You hated her. It was killing you to have the two of them move in together. You were mad and you had already warned her and she hadn’t listened. You decided to stop her.”
Celeste met his gaze. What he saw made him feel dirty. There was so much malice in those eyes. “I was angry and hurt and I hated her. But I knew that if I stopped...” She pulled her gaze away and bit down on her lower lip for a moment. “I was afraid it would get ugly, so I kept going. I drove toward Paradise Valley.”
“That’s the same lie you’ve been telling me. It’s three hundred and eighty miles round-trip to the spa, which you never reached. You drove over seven hundred miles in that SUV. Now stop lying to me.”
“I might have taken some back roads. I don’t know. I just drove.”
“I’ve had it with you and your lies. For whatever reason, you can’t let go of your ex-husband and you have proved what lengths you will go to in an attempt to keep him and Maggie apart. What you wrote on her mirror at her beauty shop pretty much says it all. ‘Die Bitch.’ We already know how you felt about her since you’re the one who left the message for her.”
“Yes, I wanted her gone, but you have no proof that I—”
“You couldn’t stand the thought of her moving in, so you killed her. Why else won’t you tell me where you went? You have something to hide and we all know it.” Mark got to his feet. He’d lost all patience with this woman and said as much. “Celeste Duma, you are under arrest for the abduction and assault of Margaret ‘Maggie’ Thompson, as well as obstruction of justice. Get on your feet.”
“No!” she cried. “You can’t do this.”
“Actually, I can,” he said and began to read her her rights.
* * *
RADVILLE, NORTH DAKOTA, sat hunkered down in the middle of windswept prairie miles from anywhere. A tumbleweed cartwheeled in front of the pickup as Frank and Nettie reached the city-limits sign.
As Frank slowed, Nettie read the rusted sign. Someone had scratched out the original number of residents, changing it from 211 to 209. But she figured it was less than that, given how faded the lettering was.
A neon light flashed Vacancy at what appeared to be the only motel in town. It was one of those single-level U-shaped motor courts that had seen better days.
Frank drove past to what appeared to be the center of town, passing a convenience store of sorts with two sad-looking gas pumps outside. Beyond it she saw a casino sign flashing at the Mint Bar. That had to be the most popular bar name since they’d passed four other ones on their way to Radville.
They drove by an old service garage, now deserted, then an old theater, long boarded up, before she spotted a café in the middle of a block of empty buildings. In the distance, she saw what looked like a school. As Frank approache
d it, she noticed the windows were decorated with artwork made by young children. The colorings were faded and there was a padlock and chain on the wide double doors.
“I think that city-limits sign was a lie,” Nettie said. “No way do 209 people live here.”
“Maybe we should get a room first, freshen up before we go see Dana Stevens,” he said.
“I doubt there’s going to be a run on motel rooms. I just have a feeling that we shouldn’t put this off. You know the town clerk called Dana the minute we hung up after getting her address.”
“I doubt she’s going to skip town, but I’d go with one of your feelings any day. I think I passed her street. Second, right?”
“Yes. It’s in the third block.”
He laughed as he turned down Second. “There’s nothing past the third block.” Ahead she could see a blue clapboard house sitting at the edge of town. “Wanna bet that’s it? There’re enough toys out front that it could be a day care.”
“The toys don’t look like they’ve been used for a while,” Nettie noted, seeing the rust, the flat tires on the bikes, the dirt that had blown into the cracked plastic sled. As Frank parked, she saw a curtain move, then fall motionless. “She knows we’re here. Let’s see if she answers the door,” Nettie said as she got out.
The woman who eventually came to the door was small and pale with lifeless brown hair and chipped blue-painted nails. Dana wore baggy jeans and a sweatshirt with faded lettering on it. “Yes?”
“We’re here about Jenna,” Nettie said.
Fear widened the woman’s brown eyes. She looked like a woman in her late forties who’d had anything but an easy life. “Is she all right?”
“We don’t know. That’s why we’re trying to find her before someone else does,” Frank said.
Nettie saw understanding dawn on her face. “Can we please come in?”
Dana hesitated, but for only a moment. She opened the door wider and ushered them into a house that had seen the wear and tear of the children who’d once played with those toys out in the yard. From the photos on the walls, it appeared that she’d had her children early in life and they were now all grown and gone. Nettie wondered where they’d ended up. Probably scattered to the wind since she couldn’t see much opportunity in Radville for them.
“I’m Nettie Curry, and this is my husband, Frank. We’re investigators,” she said as she took a seat.
“You mean like detectives?”
“Private detectives,” Frank said and showed his ID.
Dana barely glanced at it as she sat down on the edge of a chair across from them and fidgeted with the hem of her sweatshirt. “I don’t know where Jenna is.”
“When was the last time you talked to her?” Nettie asked.
“Last week.” She looked even more nervous.
“Did she tell you then what was going on?” Frank asked.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I think you do. Who is Clark?” he asked.
Dana started, eyes widening, but she said nothing.
Nettie tried a different approach. “Dana, we’re afraid Jenna is in trouble and we know you’re worried about her too. That’s why we need your help.”
The woman rose and moved to the window to peer out. She looked scared. Nettie remembered hearing a series of locks being released before the woman had opened the door to them. Whatever had Jenna afraid apparently had this woman just as fearful.
“You’re the one who called yesterday, aren’t you?” Dana asked, turning back to them. “How did you get her phone?”
“From a friend of hers.”
“The man she was living with,” Dana said.
“He’s worried about her too. You need to tell us about Clark. Who is he?”
The woman hugged herself, her expression darkening. “He’s my older brother.”
“Why is he after Jenna?” Nettie asked.
Dana set her jaw.
“Do you want to help her or not?” Frank asked. “Jenna took off the first time because she was afraid of him. Now she’s disappeared again.”
“Except this time we think she might have decided to end this,” Nettie said. “Did she tell you what she planned to do? That she was going to tell him where she was?”
Dana looked horrified at the thought. “No, she wouldn’t do that unless...”
“Unless?” Nettie asked.
The young woman glanced out the window. She seemed even more afraid now. “The only way she would have contacted him was if he...” She swallowed and shook her head.
Nettie leaned forward and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “We know you’ve been keeping her secret. Something you promised never to tell. But Jenna needs your help now more than ever. Why is your brother after her?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
VICKI HAD TO tell Harp the truth. She didn’t need a baby to get him to marry her. He loved her. Why else would he have shared such damaging information with her that day in the hospital?
At the sound of his patrol car pulling up outside, she felt her heart begin to race. What if he was angry with her and blamed her for losing the baby? What if he was glad the baby was gone because now he wouldn’t have to marry her?
Suddenly she wasn’t so sure that anyone would believe her if she told them what Harp had confessed that day. Suddenly she wasn’t so sure of anything.
She could hear his footfalls on the stairs. She’d been so sure this was the right thing to do. Now, though, she was scared.
His key turned in the lock, the door opened and she knew she had to decide. Now!
As he came through the door, she saw his expression and felt her heart drop like a rock. He knew. Somehow he’d found out that she’d lost the baby. That she’d been lying. Why else was he grinning at her like that? She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. He stalked toward her, grabbed her and spun her around.
“Harp, I can explain,” she said, just wanting to get this over with. But she was getting dizzy, her head swimming. Why hadn’t she told him months ago that she’d miscarried?
He was laughing and she could feel a current running through him. “Explain what?” he asked as he set her down on her feet again.
“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” she said, meaning it.
“Oh, sorry. I forgot. The baby.”
She looked into his face, expecting to see sarcasm.
“You all right?” he asked when she didn’t make a run for the bathroom.
Her head was still spinning, but her earlier nausea had passed. Was it possible he didn’t know? Her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth. Confess, she screamed inside her head. Just get it over with.
“Sit down. You look green around the gills,” he said, taking her arms in his big hands and gently settling her on the edge of the couch. “I’ve got a surprise.”
She hated surprises since she’d yet to get a good one. Worse, he was nervous, making her even more jittery.
Harp swallowed, rubbed his hands down the thighs of his jeans and took a breath. He let it out slowly as he dropped to one knee.
She stared in shock as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small red box. This was his surprise? She wanted to scream. She couldn’t marry him with this lie between them.
Vicki looked into his handsome face and her heart broke.
“Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice breaking as he popped open the box to reveal the prettiest little diamond engagement ring she’d ever seen.
* * *
IT DIDN’T TAKE Flint long to find the location of the Duma lake house. After all, he was still sheriff. He pulled out his cell phone, then reconsidered calling Mark after reminding himself that he was on paid leave. He knew what Mark would say. That was if he didn’t try to stop him.
The problem was that the department was short staffed under normal circumstances. With him on leave, it would only put more pressure on manpower. Add to that the winter storm still putting down snow...
Again, Flint reminded himself that he was on paid leave. He’d been pulled off Maggie’s case because he was a suspect. Not to mention, he was too close to it. He’d proved that earlier when he’d attacked Celeste. He still couldn’t believe he wasn’t behind bars. Investigating on his own was a fool thing to do.
For years he’d always gone by the book. He was a straight-arrow guy who didn’t believe in cutting corners. But now the woman he loved had been taken. It almost scared him to think what extremes he might go to. But he had no choice. He had to find Maggie. Wherever she was, he worried that she was cold and afraid, hurt and possibly dying. He shoved that thought away, refusing to imagine her in some horrible basement somewhere.
Not that the basement at the Duma lake house would be horrible. Unless there was no heat.
He pocketed his phone, knowing that Mark would try to talk him out of this or, worse, try to stop him. He’d go, he’d check out the lake house and then... And how exactly are you getting in?
Flint wasn’t going to worry about that now. He had a long drive ahead of him. He’d always gone with his gut instinct partnered with sound evidence, and it had never let him down.
But this time, he couldn’t count on it. This was the woman he planned to spend the rest of his life with. He had to find Maggie, and the one thing he felt soul deep was that the clock was ticking down.
* * *
MAGGIE WOKE TO find a paper bag beside her. The smell alone had her sitting up and reaching for the contents. She was starved and couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten.
She ate the burger and fries as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks. Maybe she hadn’t. She’d lost all track of time and had no idea how long she’d been here since most of the time she’d been drugged.
Her stomach groaned and for a moment she thought she might be sick to her stomach. She closed her eyes, wishing she hadn’t devoured the meal so quickly. After a few minutes, it seemed the food would stay down. She was relieved since she didn’t know when she would get fed again.
