by C J Burright
Roman closed the door, muffling the ringing phones, hushed voices and static dispatch radio. The mild scent of leather drifted with his movement, probably from his thick duty belt. “We’re still gathering details.” He leaned against the desk and barred his arms over his chest, his black eyes knife sharp. “We do know Tatum was on the bus.”
Adara nodded. Still the teacher on bus duty, she’d witnessed Tatum poke Zachary with her fairy wand while climbing the bus stairs.
“The bus driver confirmed he dropped Tatum off, and since she didn’t make it home, the abduction assumedly happened in the two blocks between the bus stop and your house. We’re interviewing everyone on those two blocks right now.” His jaw bunched, adding to his take-no-hostages bearing. “The best information we’ve received is one older lady remembered seeing a pretty woman walking hand in hand with Tatum. She didn’t recall any reason to suspect anything. Tatum wasn’t struggling. When shown a picture of Isabella, the woman was ninety-five percent sure it was her.”
London made a strangled noise. Garret shivered so hard that Adara leaned into him, steadying. She was too numb to tremble. Not once did she imagine Tatum might become a target. She’d have offered Joey’s room to Bella permanently and sacrifice her own safety to keep Tatum off the radar.
“Isabella took Tatum to get attention.” Roman’s gravelly voice softened a smidge. “She’ll show up soon enough, I guarantee it. The best thing you can do is stay home so you’ll be there when she gets back. I’ll keep you updated.”
While Adara appreciated his careful phrasing, she knew they were all thinking ‘if’ instead of ‘when’.
Outside the station, she walked with Garret to his car as the Sullivans drove away, headed home. Helplessness prickled through her. She wanted to do something, not go home. Not pretend that a little girl, her favorite student, Garret’s niece, wasn’t out there somewhere, at the mercy of a stalker. Joey’s sickness had left her weaponless. In this situation, she could at least join the search.
“I can’t stand the thought of sitting around, waiting. Let’s drive around, look for her.” She took Garret’s cold, clammy hand in hers and squeezed. “It’s not your fault.”
“I understand that here.” He tapped his temple, his never-say-die smile hidden beneath worry and guilt. “But my heart says differently.” He scrubbed his fingers through his disheveled hair. “There are so many what ifs, all on me, too many not to take some blame. If Bella hurts her…”
“Wallowing in ‘what ifs’ is zero help.” She grabbed him hard by both forearms and scowled up at him. “Snap out of it, Ambrose. A stalker has your niece.” He blinked rapidly, as if she’d slapped him awake. Sometimes, truth made the best smelling salts. Dragging his keys out of his limp fingers, she spun away. “I’m driving.”
While driving around like a gangster looking for rivals on her turf was better than sitting around wringing her hands, it was equally productive. They found nothing, not at the mall, any fast food restaurants or playgrounds. They’d talked to everyone, flashing Bella’s picture. Nothing. They only quit when it was too dark to see and all the stores and restaurants had closed for the night.
Adara pulled into her driveway, put Garret’s car in gear and twisted to face him. He looked ready to either weep or destroy cities. “You should stay with me tonight.”
He rubbed a hand down his face, as though needing time to process the easy question. “What if she goes to my house?”
Good point. “Would Tatum even know how to get to your house?”
“Not Tatum.” A breath hissed between his teeth. “Bella.”
He was right. Bella’s focus was Garret. If she knew Tatum’s schedule and address, she knew where he lived too. Without saying a word, she backed out onto the street and drove to Garret’s house.
“I hired bodyguards for us both,” he said, almost absently, gazing out the window into the darkness. “Ian suggested it after Bella broke into your house. You’ve had an undercover, former SWAT member watching you twenty-four seven.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should’ve done the same for London and the kids.”
A man she’d never seen had been watching her closer even than Bella had. Not creepy at all. She glanced in the rearview mirror. Sure enough, headlights trailed them at a discreet distance. Two motorcycles. From now on, she’d pay more attention to her surroundings.
Hellion met them at the door with a plaintive meow and Adara picked him up, snuggling him close for a second then handing him to Garret. He needed the comfort more. She hated seeing him this way, stifled by remorse and fear. When he wasn’t shining, the world felt wrong.
She shrugged out of her coat, helped him with his and led him by the hand to the couch. He had a bed now, but staying close to the door seemed like a good idea.
As soon as he sat down, he released Hellion and wrapped his arms around her instead, pulling her onto his lap and against his chest. He dropped his forehead on her shoulder and sighed, his breath warm on her collarbone. “Thank you for staying.”
Hesitantly, she brushed his hair back. It was almost as soft as Hellion’s, and once she started slowly stroking his head, she couldn’t stop. His moan was dangerously close to a purr and the way he leaned into her, so trusting, pierced her heart.
Her future felt balanced on a scale, tipping one way and the next. Somehow, without meaning to, she’d become tangled in his life, his family, his fears. She wanted Tatum safe, but she never would’ve been in this position of intimate family knowledge without Garret undermining her boundaries. She should retreat, go home.
Without saying anything, Garret stretched out on the couch, taking her with him. He tucked her head beneath his chin and tugged her close. Once the soft blanket was dragged over them both, a shudder rolled through his large body.
Everything inside her wrenched into a stony, throbbing knot. The isolation she’d endured while slowly losing Joey was a permanent burn on her soul. She’d cemented on her positive mask and never let an ounce of despair show, but she would’ve paid in vital organs to have someone simply hold her tight and refuse to let go through it all, whether she said she didn’t want it or not.
Slowly, Adara slipped her arm around Garret. Their future together may be undecided, but she could be a solid, silent presence for him tonight, with no reservations. Settling her head in the crook of his neck, she curled into him and matched her breaths to his.
* * * *
Friday passed at a brain-eating pace, a slow frostbite of the senses, but Adara made her teacher disguise seamless for the kids. Tatum’s empty seat and Garret’s absence were reminders how easily one person’s actions could disrupt routines, families, lives. By the final bell, still no news.
At Roman’s suggestion, she went home instead of back to Garret’s. A separation might draw Bella out, and they were willing to try anything. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she trudged up the porch steps. The house across the street was quiet, every low shrub pruned to perfection, no spots for stalkers to hide. The next-door neighbors were away on vacation, and their fence offered a screen for spies, as Bella had already proved. Maybe that’s where her bodyguard lurked. She hadn’t spotted him today, but she didn’t doubt he was there, invisible backup.
Invisible backup. Her pulse hiked. She should go for a run. While she suspected Bella watched Garret, not her, it was worth a shot. Bella might make a move, especially if it appeared she ran alone, and either option was better than sitting home, idle and twitchy. Hopefully her bodyguard wore running shoes.
Adara slipped inside and shut the door. Alarm, deadbolt, conventional lock. Check, check and check. Her phone chirped an alarm notification and she jumped, but the notice indicated movement, not a breach. She blew out a breath, letting her heart slow. Probably some neighborhood cat. Even if a good, long run didn’t flush out Bella, it would do wonders for her jitters.
A rap at the back door trickled into the hallway, so light it could be a bird tapping on wood, and the small hairs on the
back of her neck stiffened. No one used that door, not even her, and she hadn’t mounted cameras in the back. Having the alarm system set up and a driveway camera had felt overboard at the time.
Ready to call Roman, she hesitated. He was busy hunting down Bella, and she’d feel like an idjit if she called him and the noise at the back door turned out to actually be only a bird. Instead, she fired a text to Garret.
Unknown noise at back door. Call back in two.
She snagged her umbrella, the best impromptu weapon at hand, and hooked it on her wrist. Sticking her phone in her pocket, she crept through the kitchen into the laundry room. A scrape came from the back door, and she tensed. Slowly, so slowly, she inched forward past the refrigerator and through the laundry room doorway. Her phone vibrated at her hip, but she didn’t take her gaze from the three narrow windowpanes of the door.
There was movement at the windows, and Adara froze. The top of a small head, barely visible at the window’s bottom edge, but she’d recognize the unruly blonde hair anywhere.
Tatum.
Adara went into fast forward. She used her phone app to dismantle the alarm and threw open the door.
Tatum looked up, her blue eyes wide in her elfin, tear-streaked face. She wore the same pink polka dot shirt and jeans from yesterday. Adara reached for her and went still, her mouth going paper dry. Standing on the other side of the doorway, out of window view, was a woman she recognized by photo alone.
Bella was even prettier in person, dressed in fancy jeans Gia would approve of and a lightweight jacket over an innocently blue sweater, but the photos failed to capture the ‘off’ glint in her green eyes. She laid her hands on Tatum’s thin shoulders, a silent warning. “May we come in?”
What alternative do I have? Adara opened the door wider and cleared the entryway, making a quick survey of her backyard. No bodyguard there. Her stomach clenched. She was on her own.
Bella’s floral perfume invaded the laundry room, unfortunately familiar, as she guided Tatum inside, keeping a vulture hook on her shoulders. No weapons were visible, a small relief, but weapons could be hidden anywhere.
“You okay, Tatum?” Adara kept her voice calm, steady, normal.
Tatum nodded, her eyes glazed with tears, her bottom lip trembling.
“Lock the door and reset the alarm system.” Bella’s slight accent seemed an elegant contrast to her looney-bin vibe. Her gaze remained fixed on Adara, unblinking. Unnerving.
She did, no hesitation. Her phone shook again, and she cleared her throat to cover the noise. The last thing she wanted was Bella thinking she’d called anyone. Not knowing what else to do, she went for Pride and Prejudice civility. “How may I be of assistance, ladies?”
Bella’s set expression was that of a ceramic doll, empty of emotion. “Tatum wished to tell you goodbye.”
Silent tears trekked down Tatum’s pale cheeks.
Adara forced a smile, hoping it reflected confidence, not the unease shaking her bones. “Be brave, Miss Lizzy.”
“Repeat what I told you.” Her gaze still on Adara, Bella squeezed Tatum’s shoulder with one hand and slid the other into her pocket, where anything could be hiding.
“We’re going to be a family.” Her voice cracked and stumbled on each word. “Me, Uncle Garret and Bella.”
“Mommy and Daddy,” Bella corrected her in a chillingly soft voice. “I already told you that. Say it.”
Tatum sucked in a shuddering breath, clearly on the verge of panic. “Mommy and Daddy.”
The ice in Adara’s veins doubled. The fact Bella stalked Garret was a few points off the mental health chart, kidnapping Tatum a dozen more, but this happily ever after fantasy? There was no reasoning with someone who believed she could create a family unit that way.
As casually as possible, Adara eased closer to the washing machine. A bleach bottle rested on the shelf above, out of reach. The box of fabric softener sheets was useless, no matter the lasting fresh scent. A broom leaned near the laundry room doorway, but she’d have to ease past Bella to nab it. Her only defense was to keep her talking. “Are you certain Garret wants children?”
Bella’s eyes gleamed, a snake ready to strike.
Maybe that wasn’t the best question to start with. “I don’t doubt you know him better than anyone. My point is merely that an eight-year-old child may be an interference and split his focus, when it could be all on you.” The umbrella weighed on her wrist, the wimpiest of weapons. “Besides, don’t you want your own children? Together?”
Bella’s expression softened. Clearly, she was considering all the beautiful babies she’d have with Garret. And they would be beautiful, beautiful, mad, musical geniuses. “Once we’re together, he’ll understand how perfect we are for each other.” A heart-tugging vulnerability bled into her voice. “How happy I’ll make him. He just needs time away with me to understand, away from everything that distracts him.”
Adara couldn’t deny a pang of sympathy. What started out as a crush had twisted, inflated and rotted until it had become a demolition. Bella had it bad and there was no happy ending for her. It was tragic. “I’d be glad to return Tatum to her parents,” she said carefully, “while you run off with Garret.”
As if the suggestion broke a spell, Bella stiffened. She pulled a gun from her pocket and everything inside Adara went prey-still.
“You make valid points.” Bella tapped Tatum’s ear with the barrel, drawing a whimper from the girl. “And this one whines excessively. There will be no need to return her.”
A mistake. She’d made a mistake and they were both going to die for it. Adara casually gripped her umbrella, her mind a blank. She didn’t know what to do, could think of no way to get out of this without both her and Tatum dead. Her phone vibrated again, and Bella’s gaze dropped to her pocket.
Crap.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, all at the same second.
Bella aimed the gun at her.
Adara snapped the umbrella open in her face and lunged low for Tatum.
The back door exploded in glass and wood splinters, and a man clad all in black rolled inside, stuntman style.
A shot blasted and the house alarm wailed.
Time resumed full speed.
Sprawled on the floor with Tatum, Adara’s ears rang from the shot, dulling the still-shrieking alarm. Other than the ache in her hip and shoulder from hitting the tile, she had no pain. The bullet hadn’t hit her. Her stomach tumbled. Tatum wasn’t moving.
Someone seized her arms from behind, and she struggled, grasping for the umbrella lying broken and upside down a few inches away.
“Dumont!” She went limp at the deep, gravelly voice and sobbed. Roman. Behind him, an unfamiliar man crouched over Bella’s flailing form, handcuffing her.
“Tatum.” Her voice sounded strange, raspy and far away as she dropped her gaze to the little girl curled up on the tile, so still and small. Adara couldn’t breathe. The walls of the laundry room seemed to push down, crushing her. She wrapped her arms around herself, the cold too fierce to hold back. She’d survived and Tatum had died…just like Joey.
Roman knelt beside Tatum, carefully searching for injuries. For eternal moments, Tatum lay unmoving. Through her tears, Adara couldn’t tell if she was even breathing. Each second weighed heavier, dragged her deeper. She should’ve done something different, attacked Bella right away or had enough sense to drag Tatum inside and shut Bella out. Somehow, someway.
“There she is.” Roman’s voice cut into her thoughts and Adara blinked away the tears.
Slowly, Tatum’s eyelids fluttered. She opened her eyes, focused on Roman’s face…and broke into hysterical cries—not cries of pain, but of a scared little girl in desperate need of her mother.
Adara still couldn’t take a full breath, couldn’t stop shaking.
Beethoven’s Fifth rumbled through the house, adding a musical counterpoint to the piercing alarm. A frantic pounding on her front door acted as drum—an impromptu symphony
conducted in her should-be silent world.
“You disable the alarm system, Dumont.” Roman stood, cradling Tatum to his chest, close to his badge. “I’ll get the door.”
Numbly, Adara nodded. Her fingers not working right, she fumbled with her phone and finally managed to access the app to turn off the alarm. The silence ached with her eardrums, a deep, throbbing pulse. The image of Bella’s gun and Tatum’s terrified face spun in repeating circles through her mind. So easily, Tatum could’ve been shot. Died. Her young life cut even shorter than Joey’s.
Dead like Joey.
Suddenly, strong arms crushed her against a hard chest smelling of citrus and sunshine. Soft, warm lips peppered her neck, her head, her face. Finally, Garret eased back, but he didn’t release her. His dark eyes boiled with emotions. “Say something.”
Finally, she drew a long breath and released it. “I need a new umbrella.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Numb, Adara sat beside Garret on her couch. Bob and London huddled together on the loveseat, Tatum enveloped by them both. Two silent bodyguards filled the doorway behind Roman as the swarm of officers trickled out, finished with interviews, photos and crime-scene diagrams. A hammering came from her laundry room, the remains of her back door being boarded up. It took every ounce of concentration for her to follow Roman’s account.
“Bella trespassed through neighboring backyards and slipped through the fence behind Miss Dumont’s house. That was the only reason she wasn’t detected immediately. Ethan contacted me the second he spotted her with Tatum.” Roman hooked his thumb at Adara’s stone-faced bodyguard, his tone casual, as if dealing with gun-toting, niece-stealing stalkers was merely another day at the office. “Stealth was the best option. With a child involved and unknown weapon situation, we had to be cautious.”
Unknown. The word slithered through her, cold and knowing. Tatum’s stricken face flashed in her mind. The gunshot blared in her memory like tolling funeral bells.