“I’m sorry,” Alanna said, her voice creaking out, little more than a whisper. She cleared her throat and repeated the words, louder. “I came here because I wanted to help. I came here because I thought I knew Darcy. I thought I understood what she’d do and how I could get through to her. I never wanted anyone to be hurt because of me.”
When the officers just continued to stare at her, none of them making a move to accept her apology, heat pricked her cheeks and she ducked her head.
Then Tate was beside her, kindness in his eyes and in the hand he put on her arm. “It’s okay, Alanna. It wasn’t your fault. We all know that now.” He shot a quick glance at his fellow officers, who grumbled agreement and went back to their work. “Besides,” Tate added as he bent down to rub Chance’s ears, “you brought along a snow rescue dog.”
She gave him a grateful smile as Chance thumped his tail.
Tate stood again, looking more serious. “You should come with me, though.” He headed through the station, toward the back, where she’d never been.
“I was actually hoping to talk to Peter,” Alanna said, as she and Chance hurried after him. “I wanted to say goodbye.”
“There’s someone who wants to talk to you first.” He gestured to the closed conference room door ahead of him.
Was Darcy in there? Had she agreed to talk to her after all? But why? And why would the police agree to it?
Or maybe it was the kids? Or their parents, wanting to know how to help them recover from the trauma of being kidnapped?
Even though it was part of what she did for a living, this was too personal. She was still too conflicted to offer the support they needed.
She shook her head, backed up a step, but then Tate pushed the door open for her.
On the other side of it, the police chief and Peter glanced her way. Then Kensie and Colter were there, hugging her, almost squashing baby Elysia between them.
Yet again, Kensie had flown across the country for her. This time, she’d brought her husband, five-month-old baby and their dog, too. She’d always been willing to do anything to protect Alanna. From the moment she’d wrapped her in a hug in Luna’s hospital five years ago, Alanna had discovered her big sister always seemed to know exactly what she needed.
Rebel and Chance barked greetings to each other as Alanna breathed, “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here, sis?” Kensie asked her with a troubled gaze as she leaned back. “Why didn’t you call us? We’d have come with you.”
Peter looked at the police chief and said, “Let’s give them have some privacy.” The chief nodded and they left the room, keeping the door ajar.
In a quick burst, Alanna gave her sister and brother-in-law the short, ugly version of what had happened with Darcy.
Kensie stared at her a long moment, then asked, “What about the cop?” She nodded toward Peter in the other room.
Alanna glanced at him and blurted, “I owe him an apology.” Kensie and her husband shared a smile over her head.
Then Colter announced, “Kensie and I came here to bring you home, Alanna. But I think we’re going to spend the night at my cabin. We haven’t been there in more than a year. I want to show the place to Miss Elysia here.” He took his daughter from Kensie, bounced her in his arms and mumbled baby talk to her, then added, “It’ll give you time to make that apology.”
“But—” Alanna gestured to Peter, staring at her from beyond the conference room with his usual intensity, and Kensie took her hand.
“This time, when you come home, I don’t want you to have any regrets, Alanna.”
“I didn’t—”
“It wasn’t fair of us to think you’d want to leave this whole life behind, just walk away from everyone.”
“You didn’t,” Alanna interrupted. “You encouraged me to stay in touch with Sydney and Johnny. You tried to help convince Drew’s and Valerie’s parents to let me talk to them. You’ve always supported me.”
“But I should have understood how hard it was for you to leave the people who’d raised you, too,” Kensie said. When Alanna tried to protest again, she pressed on. “You did a good thing, coming here to help find those kids. I know you’re upset about how it all went down, but that’s not your fault. And I can see that you found something else while you were here.”
Alanna flushed and tried not to glance at Peter as Kensie winked and added, “Big sisters always know.”
“It’s not what you think,” Alanna tried to explain. Her connection with Peter was forged from a situation that had ended. It would break as soon as she stepped on that plane.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Kensie said, finality in her voice, a big sister tone Alanna had always secretly loved. “But years later, I don’t want you thinking ‘I should have, could have...’ So, Colter is right.”
“Happens sometimes,” Colter interjected, making faces at Elysia as she squirmed and giggled.
Kensie rolled her eyes at her husband, then hugged Alanna once more. “Don’t do it here. Go see him after work. Talk. Just be honest and at least then, whatever happens, you can move forward. Okay?”
Alanna nodded, unable to stop herself from glancing at Peter, who’d been staring at her as if he knew he was the subject of their conversation.
* * *
ALANNA STARED AT the house in front of her, at the light shining through the curtains, the shadow moving inside. Her engine was still running as she debated whether she could go through with it.
Alanna could hear her sister’s voice in her head from this morning, telling her she needed closure.
She’d never be able to have closure with Julian. The same was probably true of Darcy now, as well. It was too late to change either of those things. But she could find closure with Peter.
It had seemed like a good idea to go to Peter’s house when Kensie had suggested it this morning. But ten hours later, she was having doubts.
Woof! Woof!
Chance’s bark startled her and made the curtains part in the house’s window.
“Chance,” she chided as Peter stepped outside, wearing just jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt in the frigid weather.
Alanna turned off the engine and got out of her car, an apology already on her lips as Chance leaped out after her.
“Come on,” Peter said, cutting off her apology and turning back for the house, his expression inscrutable. “It’s cold out here.”
Chance bounded up alongside him, accepting Peter’s ruffling of the fur on his head before he jumped up the stairs and into the house.
Alanna followed a little more slowly, nerves building.
When she stepped inside, he helped her out of her thick winter coat, silent but not taking his gaze from hers. This singular focus made her flush and then he smiled.
His default expression was always so serious: his lips pressed together, his gaze steady, the sharp lines of his face making him seem even more intense. His was the face of a police officer. But his smile was a little bit crooked, a little bit shy. It made him seem younger, more approachable. It charmed her.
When he smiled, she could imagine walking beside him, tentatively slipping her hand into his. She could envision the giddy nervousness of a first date, the sweetness of a first kiss and then the smile on his face giving way to a thrilling intensity as he lay with her in front of the fireplace.
Awareness flickered in his eyes, then he stepped back, giving her more space than she wanted. “Let’s sit by the fire.” He headed that way, tapping his leg, calling, “You, too, Chance.”
Her St. Bernard hurried after Peter, tail wagging. When Peter sat on the couch, Chance lay at his feet.
Alanna settled awkwardly a few feet away, angled toward him. She twisted her hands together, trying to remember the words she’d planned out on the drive to his house. But they wouldn’t come and she turne
d away, her attention snagging on the bare wall across from her.
“You took down the pictures,” she said.
“It’s going to make my family happy. They’re going to ask what prompted such a big change.” His hand skimmed hers, then he shifted closer until they were sharing a seat. “I’ve been focusing on the wrong things. You taught me that.”
“What? I did? How?”
The smile was back, amused now, less self-conscious. But those bright blue eyes were still laser-locked on hers, practically hypnotic. “You’ve had to make a lot of hard choices. Pretty much everyone around you—all these people who love you—they expect something from you. I see you trying to do right by all of them. I see you putting your own needs last. And honestly, with all the reasons you have to hate some of the people involved, you always seem to choose love.”
Alanna shook her head, blew out the breath she’d been holding. Was that really how he saw her? She wished it were true. “I try to be fair to everyone, but it doesn’t always work. It feels like I let people down a lot.”
“You don’t—”
“I let you down,” she interrupted, flipping her hand over to squeeze his, trying not to fixate on how perfectly his hand seemed to fit with hers. “I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have run off without telling you where I was going. I shouldn’t have forced you to make a decision that would hurt your career.”
“I made my choice,” he said, confirming what she’d suspected—his career as a police officer was in danger. “And I’d do it again.” He lifted her hand, his breath dancing over her skin as he whispered, “If only we didn’t live across the country...” Then he pressed his lips to her knuckles.
It was the briefest touch, but it made her skin tingle and her whole body warm.
“I wish...” Her voice came out so soft she wondered if he could even hear it.
He shifted even closer, pressed against her from knee to shoulder. “What?”
When she’d lived in Desparre, she’d been sheltered, isolated. She’d barely had the opportunity to talk to people outside of her own home. She’d certainly never dated.
When she’d returned to Chicago, Kensie had encouraged her to get out, meet people, join activities. She’d dated sporadically, but it had always felt awkward, tinged with a voyeuristic curiosity about her kidnapping on their part. She’d never developed a real connection with any of them.
Sitting next to Peter felt natural. It felt like she was supposed to be here. And now she was leaving again.
She didn’t realize a tear had spilled from one eye until Peter swiped it away. His warm hand stayed on her face, turning to cup her cheek, stroke down the length of her neck. All the while, he never took his eyes from hers.
She couldn’t seem to get a full breath as he leaned closer, so slowly, and his lips finally grazed hers. Then suddenly her free hand was clutching the front of his T-shirt and the fingers he had been resting on her collarbone moved into her hair. He took her upper lip between his, brushed his tongue against the seam of her mouth.
Pulling him toward her, she wrapped her arms around his back and held on tight, leaning into his kiss, demanding more. She didn’t want to think about tomorrow, didn’t want to think about leaving. She only wanted Peter, for as long as they had together.
He groaned, the sound somewhere between frustration and need, and then she was in a controlled fall until her back hit the couch cushions, her feet still dangling on the floor. Peter angled over her, his weight on his elbows as his lips met hers again, his kisses still unhurried even as she arched up toward him.
She slid her hands down his back, pulling him toward her, thrilling in the sudden contact as he lowered his weight more fully onto her, as she shifted so her whole body was underneath him. Running her hands through his hair, over his shoulders, she fused her lips to his. The world around her seemed to fade away until all she could think of, all she could feel, was Peter.
The phone vibrating in her pocket startled her, made her jerk. She yanked it out of her pocket, ready to toss it on the floor, when she saw the name on the caller ID. Kensie knew she’d come here tonight, probably knew she wouldn’t want any interruptions. So why was she calling now?
As she squirmed to sit up, Peter moved off of her but stroked her hand.
Her voice was breathless as she answered, “Hello?” She cringed at how she sounded.
“Alanna?” Kensie’s panicked voice made Alanna’s head clear fast.
“What’s wrong?”
Her older sister, who’d risked her life to find Alanna five years ago and come to her aid once again, burst into tears. “She’s gone!” Her words were garbled over the tears as she rushed on. “Someone came into the cabin. Elysia was sleeping. Now, she’s just gone. Alanna, she’s been kidnapped!”
Chapter Fifteen
“How is this possible?” Alanna paced in front of the fire, her skin still flushed from their embrace, her lips still slightly swollen from his kisses. With panic all over her face, she spun to face him. “How?”
“I don’t know.” Peter stood, used his free hand to pull her against his chest as he listened to the officer on the other end of the phone. “Are you sure?” he asked the officer, then swore.
“Well?” Alanna demanded.
Peter shook his head. “Darcy is still behind bars. They just confirmed it. She didn’t escape again.”
“And?”
“And nothing. She’s not saying a word.”
Alanna hurried across the room and picked up her coat, fumbling as she tried to get it on. Chance raced after her, barked once, then looked back at Peter.
He followed and grabbed the coat out of her hand. “Just hold on, okay? Let’s not waste time driving around. Let’s figure out what’s going on here.”
“This can’t be a coincidence,” Alanna said, her voice too high-pitched, panic in every shaky movement.
“I know.” He pulled her back into his arms, held on tight. “I know. We’ll find her.”
He felt tension all through her body and wished he could rewind to five minutes ago, before Elysia had been abducted out of the Hayeses’ cabin a mere twenty feet from her sleeping parents. Back to Alanna breathless and kissing him, back to a time when nothing else mattered.
He’d been expecting her at his doorstep, had known an apology was coming. He’d planned to cut it off to let her know how she’d impacted his life. He hadn’t planned to tell her that he’d developed complicated feelings for her. He definitely hadn’t expected anything to happen between them.
Now none of it could matter. Because somehow, from behind bars, Darcy Altier had orchestrated the abduction of Alanna’s niece. “It could be a copycat,” he theorized out loud. Maybe Darcy’s media attention had spurred someone else into action.
“Really? Another kidnapper?” Alanna squirmed free of his tight hold just enough to look up at him from within the circle of his arms, her expression skeptical.
She was only a few inches shorter than him, and he was tempted to lean down slightly and kiss her forehead. He ignored the urge and agreed with her. “Probably not. But Julian is dead. Darcy’s been in jail for five years. How likely is it that she managed to find a new partner while she was on her way here from Oregon?”
“There’s no way,” Alanna said, pulling away from him and starting to pace again, her hands curled into fists. “Maybe Darcy paid someone? I mean, it’s Elysia.” Her voice cracked and she swiped a hand over her eyes. “Darcy is trying to hurt me because I turned her in five years ago, because I came after her again. I should have stayed home. I should have made sure Kensie stayed home. I can’t believe Darcy would do this! I can’t believe—”
Peter pulled her back against him just as Chance ran over and pressed against her side, nudging her with his big head. “It’s not your fault.”
“Of course it’s my fault!”
&nbs
p; “Alanna—”
“Let’s not argue about this.” She spun in his arms to face him, staring up at him with desperation and trust. A trust he probably hadn’t earned. “Let’s just figure out how to find my niece.”
“We will,” he promised, praying he could keep his word.
To find Elysia, he had to figure out if Darcy had contacted someone. Who would help her? According to the station, Darcy hadn’t made a single call since she’d been arrested yesterday. Maybe someone had acted without her needing to ask? Maybe they’d seen the news and taken their own revenge.
But who?
“Could it be someone she met in jail back in Oregon?” he asked. It was an odd thing to consider, but it definitely happened.
“Wouldn’t that person still be in jail?” Alanna was obviously not following his trail of thinking.
“I mean, someone who visited her. You know those women who marry men on death row? Or marry murderers while they’re still in jail, then move in with them when they get released? It happens with female inmates and male civilians, too.”
Alanna shook her head. “Darcy was already married. Julian—”
“Was in jail, too. They were separated, in two different prisons. Maybe someone started visiting her. Even if she wasn’t interested, maybe they followed the news. They could have followed her here. Maybe it was their way of trying to win her over. Stranger things have happened.”
Alanna looked skeptical, but it was the best idea he had. It made a lot more sense if it was someone who’d visited Darcy, who’d schemed with her. Someone whose trust she’d earned, someone who’d do anything to make her happy.
No matter what Alanna thought about Darcy and Julian’s relationship, these were people who’d spent nearly two decades with kids they’d kidnapped. They were both capable of manipulation. Maybe someone desperate and lonely had visited Darcy in prison and she’d seen an opportunity. Then, when she’d managed to escape, he’d followed her here and taken revenge when she’d gone back to jail.
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