Twisted Lies

by Robin Patchen

  Marisa dashed away.

  Rick backed up, reached in his pocket.

  Nate didn't want to know what was in there. He barreled forward, tackled, landed on top of Rick. Nate lifted the rock again, aimed at the man's head, brought it down.

  Rick dodged, and the rock glanced off his temple.

  Rick kneed Nate in the side, and pain crashed through him. He concentrated on keeping hold of the rock. His only chance.

  Rick kneed him again.

  Nate ignored the pain, shifted to swing the rock a third time when he saw the glint.

  A knife.

  He twisted. It sliced his back. He stood and scrambled away from the deadly weapon.

  Rick stood, too. Nate's back was to the cabin wall. Not that he would run.

  Of course he'd brought a rock to a knife fight.

  But Marisa was safe. And Ana was probably safe. And this man... He'd pay for what he did, even if Nate wasn't the one to exact revenge.

  Rick's gaze darted to the street. He seemed unsure. He turned to run.

  Not on Nate's watch. He lunged, tackled, and brought Rick to his knees. Nate was still sluggish. But maybe he could slow him down.

  Rick swiveled, thrust with the knife. It sliced into Nate's left side.

  The kidnapper stood. "Should have killed you when I had the chance."

  "Your mistake."

  The sounds of the police just down the road drifted. They were getting closer. A light had gone on in the cabin next door.

  "You're not getting away," Nate said. "We know who you are."

  "You don't know anything."

  "Is that so, Richard?"

  The man's eyes rounded like the moon before they narrowed into evil slits. He lifted the knife, aimed for Nate's chest.

  Nate parried with his left hand, diverting the knife's aim. Brought the rock down on the man's head. Hard. Then again.

  Rick stumbled, crashed into the cabin's wall. Dropped the knife.

  Nate grabbed it, stepped back, and raised his arm again. Blood gushed through his pajamas. Reality overpowered adrenaline, making him weak. He couldn't wimp out now. This was for Marisa. And Ana.

  But Richard Gray didn't move.

  Chapter 36

  MARISA RAN TOWARD THE police at the other cabin. As soon as she saw a figure, she screamed for help. The sounds of doors opening, men yelling, carried on the still night.

  "Brady!" Her shout barely penetrated theirs. She tried, "Help!"

  A uniformed officer ran toward her from the cabin. "Ma'am, you need to stay back."

  "Help! He's down here."

  The cop slowed as he neared her. "Go back in your house."

  She gripped his arm. "I'm the woman you're trying to rescue. The kidnapper saw you coming. He's this way."

  The man's eyes widened. He spoke into a walkie-talkie, relaying her message. "Backup's on the way."

  "You have to hurry." She pulled uselessly on his arm. "They were fighting. He's going to kill him."

  Finally, the words seemed to penetrate. "Show me."

  Marisa turned and ran back toward Nate, the cop right beside her. She could hear more police officers behind them, catching up.

  When she reached the edge of the cabin's property, she slowed. A man lay on the ground. Another stood over him. But which man was which? It was nearly impossible to tell in the darkness.

  "Nate?"

  "Stand back, ma'am." The officer passed her, his gun pointed at the two men. "Drop the knife."

  The man took a few steps away from the figure on the ground, dropped the knife, and leaned against the cabin wall and slid to the ground. Marisa inched closer. Peered at his face. The blood, now dried, on his scalp. The rock still gripped in his right hand.

  Nate. He was alive.

  She ran forward, dropped to her knees, and threw her arms around him.

  He winced, and she let him go. "I'm sorry. I hurt you." She backed up, searched his face for more injuries. "Are you all right?"

  "I'll survive." His eyes met hers

  "Ma'am, you need to step back."

  She brushed bits of rock and dirt off Nate's cheek and rested her palm there, soaking in his warmth. She leaned forward, kissed his lips gently, and said, "Thank you."

  "I didn't—"

  "You did." She kissed him again.

  "Ma'am." Police officers swarmed around them now. Some hovering over the man unconscious just a few feet away. Another behind her. "Please step back."

  She met Nate's eyes. Even in the darkness, she thought she saw her own feelings reflected there. Maybe, when this was all over, when she had Ana...

  "Ana."

  "Go."

  His word propelled her, and she stood, swiveled, ran back toward the cabin.

  MARISA RAN UNTIL HER chest burned. Past one police officer heading toward Nate and the kidnapper. Past trees and bushes and cabins and police cars lining the road. All she could think about now was Ana.

  Was she alive?

  Had she been hurt?

  Would she recover?

  Marisa's whole life hinged on this moment. On what she would find back in that dingy cabin. Had she truly rescued Ana from a life of an impoverished orphan in Mexico? Or had she adopted her into an early death?

  How would Marisa survive if Ana hadn't?

  She reached the cabin and froze at the bottom of the steps just as a figure filled the doorway.

  A tall, broad-shouldered figure that could only be Brady.

  And on his hip, a little girl in a blue sundress.

  "Mama?"

  The most beautiful melody in the world could be found in those two syllables.

  Through a haze of tears, Marisa rushed up the stairs, and Brady shifted Ana into her outstretched arms. Ana's tiny arms slid around Marisa's neck, her thin legs folded around her torso and clenched as if the girl would never let her go.

  Marisa held on just as tight. Focused on the soft skin pressed against hers.

  "Oh, baby, I'm sorry."

  Ana's tears soaked through Marisa's thin pajamas, and her own tears dripped into her daughter's hair.

  Brady whispered, "Are you hurt?"

  She shook her head, held her baby closer. "I'm fine."

  "Marisa."

  His tone had her focusing on him.

  "The blood."

  "What?"

  "On your pajamas."

  She had no idea what he was talking about. She adjusted Ana, looked down, and saw the red stain. She'd felt it before, the dampness. She'd ignored it. But now...that was blood.

  "Oh, my God. Nate."

  "All right," Brady said. "Let's get out of this cold. You want me to get a car to drive—"

  "I can walk."

  They walked fast down the road to the cabin. An ambulance had arrived, and Nate was lying on a gurney, a paramedic examining him. He must've seen them approach, because he tried to push himself to a sitting position. The paramedic pushed him back down with a hand to his shoulder.

  Marisa rushed to his side. Nate's head was bloody, which she'd expected. It was the fresh blood on his shirt that had her gasping.

  Before she could form words, Nate said, "Thank God." Tears slid from his eyes. "Is she okay?"

  "I think so. Are you all right?"

  "It's not serious." He seemed to be trying to peer around her to get a look at Ana.

  Not serious. Dear God, let that be true. She turned and bent so Nate could speak to her daughter.

  "Hey, pretty girl. Are we glad to see you."

  Ana let up her grip just a tiny bit. "Hi, Uncle Nate. Mama found me."

  "She sure did."

  Marisa faced the paramedic, a tall woman with a no-nonsense stare, who stood on the opposite side of the gurney. "Is he going to be okay?"

  "We need to get him to the hospital."

  She looked at Nate. "We'll be right behind you."

  "No. Take care of her."

  "But..." She wanted to argue, but Nate was right. She needed to take care of Ana, and the la
st thing the little girl needed was to spend the night in a hospital waiting room. "I want to be with you, too."

  He reached out, and she took his hand. "Tomorrow. I promise."

  Joy and fear bubbled, and she couldn't form words.

  "Ma'am, we have to go."

  She addressed her question to the paramedic. "What happened to him?"

  "It's a stab wound."

  She turned back to Nate. "He stabbed you? Oh, Nate—"

  "I'm fine. As long as I know you and Ana are okay."

  All the joy in Marisa's heart drained like water through a colander. Or the holes in Nate's body.

  Marisa held her daughter closer, thankful to have her back. But Nate...

  The blood on his shirt, the blood dripping from his head. What if Nate wasn't fine? What if the cost of getting Ana back was Nate's life?

  Chapter 37

  MARISA WATCHED AS THE paramedics slid Nate into the ambulance. The kidnapper was already on board. She could see him in the bright lights of the truck. He seemed unconscious, but just in case, someone had handcuffed him to the gurney.

  A paramedic closed the back doors. A moment later, the ambulance drove away.

  Brady stepped beside her. "I've got my guys processing the two scenes."

  She turned, confused.

  "This cabin and the other one."

  "Oh."

  "We should be able to get this one processed and opened up in the next hour or so. He just came in, took you, and left, right?"

  "As far as I know."

  "Good." He looked at the house, and she followed his gaze. A couple of police officers stood inside with two other people, neither wearing uniforms. Brady turned back to her. "I'll give you two a ride to the hospital."

  "Do we have to do that?"

  "Unfortunately, you do. They need to examine her."

  Marisa squeezed her eyes shut at the images Brady's words brought. "You don't think..." She couldn't finish the sentence.

  "Let's not guess, okay? Let's just wait, get the facts, and go from there." He nodded toward the truck.

  "Can I get some clothes?"

  He looked at the house again. "Let me grab you something. Be right back."

  She slid in the front seat with Ana on her lap.

  A moment later, Brady returned with her jacket. He draped it over them. "She should go in the back."

  Ana's legs clamped around Marisa's middle. The little girl wasn't about to let Marisa put her down, and Marisa wasn't arguing. "You can get us to the hospital safely, right?"

  He wrapped the seatbelt around both of them and clicked it in place.

  "Thank you."

  He nodded and closed her door.

  Brady had called ahead to the small hospital. A young, perky nurse met them at the door and led her and Ana straight to an exam room.

  A gray-haired older man stepped in a moment later and shook her hand. "Dr. Lariviere. Detective Thomas asked me to meet you here."

  "Oh. Are you friends with him?"

  "I'm Johnny's doctor, so I know Mrs. Thomas better than the detective." Dr. Lariviere peeked at Ana's face. Marisa hadn't looked, but she thought her daughter might have fallen asleep.

  "Hey, sweetheart," the doctor said. "You look sleepy."

  Ana nodded, held Marisa tighter.

  "I'm going to have to lay you down, okay?"

  The little girl shook her head, squeezed her arms around Marisa.

  The doctor met Marisa's eyes, smiled kindly, and looked at Ana again. "I bet I can be done in five minutes. What do you think?"

  Ana shrugged.

  He took his cell phone out of his pocket, touched it a couple of times, and showed the screen to Ana. "I set the timer for five minutes. If you let your mother put you down, you can hold onto my phone in one hand, and your mommy's hand with the other. And you can watch the numbers go down while I work. By the time they're all zero, I'll be done. You want to try that?"

  "I'll be right here," Marisa said. "I promise."

  There was a pause before Ana nodded.

  Marisa gently laid her daughter on the table, held her hand, and let the doctor examine her. Her eyes filled with tears, and she couldn't watch what the doctor was doing, was looking for. Thank God, Ana seemed intent on watching the numbers as Marisa stroked her hair.

  As promised, before the time was up he said, "All done." After Ana had scrambled back into her mother's arms, the doctor met Marisa's eyes. "Everything looks fine. Nothing to worry about."

  The relief washed over her like a warm rain.

  After Marisa got Ana to pee in a cup, they were led back to the waiting room, where Brady met them at the door. "All set?"

  She nodded, could hardly speak for the emotions swirling around in her mind. She got them under control enough to say, "She's okay. Have you heard anything about Nate?"

  "Not yet. He's being examined. I'll get you settled at the cabin, then come back and check on him."

  They climbed in Brady's truck, which he'd left at the door, and returned to the cabin.

  "They're done processing it. Just stay out of Nate's room tonight in case they need to go back tomorrow."

  "Will do." She undid the seatbelt, and Brady came around to walk her to the door.

  "He jimmied the lock. It works, but apparently not so well. I'll keep a uniform outside all night. Okay?"

  "If you think it's necessary."

  He shrugged. "I doubt it is, but just in case." They stepped inside, and Ana poked her head up and looked around. Marisa had hoped she'd fall asleep on the ride home, but her little girl looked bright-eyed now.

  "Where are we, Mama?"

  "We're going to stay here tonight." She looked at Brady. "I thought I'd give her a bath." She shifted to look at Ana. "You want to take a bath? You should see the bathtub. It's like a swimming pool."

  The little girl nodded.

  "Good idea," Brady said. "I'll head to the ER, check on Nate. You have that phone still? The one the guy gave you?"

  "Um..." She thought back, remembered setting it on the nightstand in her bedroom. She'd left it there when she'd slipped into Nate's bed in the middle of the night.

  The thought had heat rushing to her face. What must Nate think of her? But she'd seen what he thought of her in his eyes before they'd put him in the ambulance.

  Nate.

  "Is he going to be all right?"

  Brady's look didn't reassure her. "I'll find out. If there's anything..." He paused, seemed to search for words. "I promise I'll call you if you need to know anything. What's your number?"

  "I have no idea."

  "Where's the phone?"

  She told him, and he slipped into her bedroom and returned with the phone pressed to his ear. A moment later, his cell rang. He looked at the screen and silenced the call from Marisa's phone. "I have your number now. I'll call you when I have news."

  "Right," she said, only half listening. Could Nate's injuries be life threatening? Why hadn't she asked the paramedic more questions? He could die, and she hadn't thought to ask.

  And she'd been taken by the kidnapper, yanked out of her bed...

  The room spun.

  Brady crossed the space and urged her to the sofa. Ana stayed clamped on and still wouldn't let go, though Marisa thought she might pass out.

  "Just wait for it to pass." She heard his footsteps but couldn't seem to look up. A moment later, he draped a blanket over her. "You're okay."

  She took a few deep breaths and looked up to meet his eyes.

  "Why don't I call Sam?"

  No. He was right, she was safe, Ana was safe, and Nate was... Well, he was in good hands. "I'm okay. I'm going to give Ana a bath, and we're going to go to bed." She narrowed her eyes. "You have to promise me that if I need to be there, if Nate's injuries are... If it looks bad... I won't be able to rest if I don't think you'll call."

  "I promise, I'll call when I know something. Either way. Okay?"

  "Thank you."

  He turned to the kitchen's
bar and pulled a pen and notepad out of his breast pocket. "I'm writing down my phone number, Sam's, Rae's, Nate's, and the hospital's." When he finished writing the note, he said, "I'm taking the keys so Nate can get in when he gets back. Don't hesitate to call me. I'll stay with Nate tonight. If you have any problems or just want to know how he's doing or anything..."

  "Thank you, Brady."

  He nodded once. "Happy to help." He backed toward the door. "You two will be okay here by yourselves? You sure I can't get Sam—?"

  "We're fine." She squeezed her daughter. "Aren't we, pajarita?"

  Ana nodded and held her tighter.

  "Okay. Tomorrow you'll have to make a statement about what happened."

  "Thank you."

  Brady walked to the door and bent to examine the outside knob. "This place needs a deadbolt."

  "I don't think any of us thought he'd find us here."

  "I wonder how he did."

  She shrugged, too tired to worry about it tonight. "He's in custody, right? He's not getting out?"

  "You're safe. I promise."

  Safe. She hadn't felt truly safe in a very long time. Marisa finally had her life back, but what kind of life could it be without Nate?

  EXHAUSTION ALMOST WON, but Marisa wanted to wash any remnants of that man's scent from her daughter's skin. When the dizziness passed, she lifted Ana, made sure the front and back doors were locked, and headed into her bedroom, closing the door behind them.

  "I know you're sleepy, but let's take a quick bath."

  She tried to set Ana on the bed, but her daughter wouldn't let her go.

  "You're safe now, baby. Can you sit on the bed?"

  She could feel her daughter's head shaking.

  Marisa sighed, exhausted, and continued into the bathroom. Somehow, she managed to bend over and start the water in the giant bathtub, get it to the right temperature, and put in the stopper, all without setting Ana down. Her back would be sore tomorrow, but better her back than Ana's heart.

  She gathered the soap and shampoo from the shower, snatched a clean washcloth from the cabinet, and set the items on the edge of the Jacuzzi tub while she waited for the water to fill it.

  "You want bubbles?"

  Ana's voice was tentative. "Okay."

  She feared the noise of the Jacuzzi would frighten her daughter, so instead of turning on the jets, Marisa simply squirted shampoo into the water's stream, and the oversize tub soon filled with bubbles. The scent of strawberries wafted through the room.