“Just thinking about what you said. I don’t see any blessing in being without a family all my life. It’s been hard.”
“I’m sorry. Here I am complaining about my mom and sister and you haven’t had either of those things. After all you’ve gone through, it’s probably hard to trust anyone.”
Trust. She sat back in her chair as the word hammered into her brain. It was true. She had trouble trusting anyone. She’d gone to every one of her foster homes full of hope that this time might be different, but every time, she’d soon learned her place in the family. That place had been slaving away in the kitchen or doing the laundry for a household of ten. In one home she was expected to care for the babies while the foster parents partied every night. Everyone always wanted something from her.
Was this lack of trust the real reason she was still alone? It was impossible to have a relationship with anyone without some level of trust. Even Oliver was someone she’d circled around, waiting for him to betray her. Maybe it was the real reason she left her phone at home more often than not. She wouldn’t expect some call to come through only to find out it never happened.
It was better to expect nothing than to face disappointment.
“You’re right.” Her words came out a hoarse croak. “I guess I really don’t trust much of anyone. You were able to start over with your sister today. How did you get enough trust to do that when she’s disappointed you so many times?”
A frown settled between his brows. “What’s the alternative, Harper? To live in a constant state of trepidation and fear? She might revert to the old Willow, but I’ll never know if she can change if we don’t both try. And if she disappoints me, so what? A little disappointment never killed anyone.”
“Sometimes it’s felt a little like death,” she murmured.
“I know you’re a Christian, so you must trust God, right?”
She considered the question. “Maybe I don’t, not really. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Just like Annabelle’s disappearance. I’ve been praying for him to save her and rescue her, but what if he doesn’t?”
He bobbed his head in a slow nod. “I get it. I prayed for my dad, too, and God still took him. That’s when trust comes the hardest, but it’s also when it brings the most blessing. I trust that God has my dad’s best interests at heart even when I can’t see it. We often don’t understand why things happen, but we trust anyway.”
She reached for the chips bag and took out a handful. “I’ll try to do better, but I’m making no promises.”
The tang of vinegar and sea salt hit her tongue. Could she lay down her guard enough with this man who seemed so steady? The truth would be revealed when she told him about her pregnancy.
29
Annabelle was back in the locked room, but she hoped she was going to be turned loose soon. The woman had seemed surprised to hear she needed chemo treatments. Surely she would be released.
She paced the floor and looked out the window for a while. A white SUV pulled up and a man got out. He moved so quickly, Annabelle didn’t get a good look at him, just a vague impression of size. It might be the guy who had grabbed her. A door slammed from somewhere, and faint voices traveled up through the register, so she flung herself onto the floor and pressed her ear to it.
“Where is she?” a man demanded.
“Locked in the room.” The woman answering sounded like Annabelle’s captor.
“What’s this nonsense about chemo?”
“She says she has lymphoma and was supposed to start treatment today.”
The air-conditioning kicked on, and Annabelle couldn’t make out the man’s answer. She pressed her ear so tightly to the register that it would leave marks.
“I think she’s telling the truth.”
The man exhaled an exasperated sigh. “This changes everything.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ll have to get the other one.”
Annabelle’s breathing quickened. Other one? One of her boys? Panic clawed at her, but she forced herself to stay calm and keep listening. Maybe she would hear something useful.
“We don’t have much time,” the man said. “I can take care of it tonight.”
“What about the Rice woman?”
“She’s of no value to the boss. Get rid of her.”
Annabelle held her breath as she waited for the woman’s answer. Her fingers curled into her palms. Please God. She wanted to see her boys again. Her sister too. If she’d been waffling about fighting this cancer, she realized in this moment that she’d do everything she could to stay with her family. To have a future with them.
She hadn’t allowed herself to think of the future much. Every time she did, the reminder that she might be dying flashed through her mind. But not anymore. She would take it one day at a time and live every day to its fullest.
“You’re sure?”
“If her body is found, the cops will be swarming, especially Annabelle’s son who’s a cop. We might find it harder to nab the sister.”
Sister?
Annabelle bit back a gasp as she remembered Harper telling her about someone trying to snatch her using ether. Why would either of them be a target?
The conversation grew too muted again to hear, then grew louder again.
“I’ll get the Taylor woman and let you know when I have her at the location.”
“Of course.”
Annabelle heard footsteps, and then the door shut. She leaped to her feet and ran to the window where she saw the SUV pull out. Squinting, she tried to make out the license plate number but couldn’t. The vehicle drove out of sight around a turn in the long drive. She had no idea how far away this place was from Orlando. She’d been unconscious on the drive here.
There had to be some kind of clues she could tell Scott. What if Harper was taken before she could warn her?
She whirled away from the window at the lock clicking behind her. Her captor stepped into the room with a paper plate.
“I brought you some food. I’m going to take you home in a little while.” The woman’s voice was gruff, and she didn’t meet Annabelle’s gaze. She set the sandwich and chips on the end of the bed and backed out of the room.
Annabelle eyed the thick slice of turkey with avocado slivers between two pieces of toasted bread. The chips looked homemade, like something from a gourmet restaurant where she’d eaten, but she couldn’t quite name which one. She needed to remember. Everything was a clue.
“Thank you,” she called as the door locked behind the woman.
She hadn’t eaten since she’d been brought here, so she sat on the edge of the bed and put the plate in her lap. She devoured the sandwich and chips, then washed it down with the bottle of water the woman had brought her earlier.
She took the plate over by the door and placed it on the floor. When she stood, the room began to spin and her mouth felt dry. Had she been drugged again?
She staggered to the bathroom and fell to her knees in front of the toilet where she jammed her fingers down her throat, trying to make herself throw up. She couldn’t expel the food though, and darkness began to close in on her vision.
After crawling to the sink, she pulled herself up and splashed cold water on her face. She had to stay awake so she could figure out how to find this place again.
She put her wrists under the stream of cold water, but she could barely stay upright by clinging to the sink. Her knees buckled as darkness claimed her.
30
The heavy rain had begun to flood the parking lot outside the school gym as they waited for Jamal to exit the locker room. Harper buckled her seat belt and waited for Ridge to get off the phone. Her stomach rumbled, and she glanced at the time. Three o’clock. She hadn’t had a chance to have lunch.
Not that she was hungry when worry about Annabelle gnawed at her.
Ridge put his phone away. “Annabelle’s been found! Scott says she’s in the hospital being checked, but she’s fine. She was found unconscious.”
“Has she said what happened? Do we know if she escaped or someone turned her free?”
“Scott said she was drugged and dumped out after the kidnapper found out she had cancer.”
“That’s so odd.”
Jamal loped to the Jeep and got into the backseat. “Sorry it took so long. Lots of congratulations. I can’t wait to tell Mom I made the most points!”
“Let’s get you over there so you can tell her.”
Ridge struck the right lighthearted note with the boy. He was good with kids. Harper put the Jeep in Drive and pulled out of the parking lot toward Jamal’s house. His mother was caring for his grandmother and hadn’t been able to attend the basketball game.
They dropped Jamal off at home before she asked more about Annabelle. “It’s beyond strange that they just let her go. Does she have any idea why she was taken?” She pulled away from the curb.
“She doesn’t know, and she wasn’t harmed in any way.” His gaze captured hers, and he chewed his lip. “She overheard them say they’d have to take you instead of her.”
Harper’s foot went to the brake, and the Jeep jerked to a stop. Her pulse fluttered in her chest. “Why?”
“They plan to grab you tonight. I think we should swing by and get Bear and some clothes so you can stay at Dad’s until we get this sorted out. I still can’t believe someone could break into his place with his expensive security.”
She started shaking her head before he finished. “My life has been disrupted enough. I can take my boat over to the marina and stay under the lights and near lots of people. There’s no reason to bother you.”
“I miss Dad, and I could use the company.” His words were low, and he stared down at his hands.
Her chest squeezed. It took a lot for a strong man like Ridge to admit he needed a little help. “Well, when you put it like that . . . I guess I can stay at least tonight. Scott should have more news by tomorrow. I’m sure he’s trying to turn over every stone.”
This was an opportunity to test her resolve to work on her trust issues. And maybe she could get up the courage to tell Ridge about the baby.
She put her foot back on the accelerator and pulled out into the traffic. As they drove back to Dunedin, she kept stealing glances at his strong profile and found him staring out the window. Losing his dad had knocked him hard.
When they got to the cover, her boat bobbed in the waves at the small dock. She parked and got out. “You want to wait here while I grab a few things?”
“I’ll come with you. I can take charge of Bear while you gather your stuff.” He shoved open the passenger door and headed for the houseboat.
Bear barked at their approach, and she could see the top of his head as he kept jumping in excitement. “I’m here, Bear.” She stepped aboard and scooped him up. He licked her chin and wiggled all over before she set him down.
“Harper, wait!” Ridge leaped aboard the boat and grabbed her arm. “Get to shore. I think there’s a bomb.”
She let him propel her and Bear off the boat to a safe distance before she asked questions. “Where’s a bomb?”
He shone the flashlight on his phone onto the bow of the boat. “See those pipes taped to the bow?”
Black duct tape attached several pipes to her boat. It hardly looked big enough to do much damage, but she grasped the gravity in Ridge’s tone. “A pipe bomb?”
“Looks like it. I’ll call 911 and get it checked out, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
“What could be the reason to bomb my boat though? I don’t have anything of value.”
“Maybe to force you to land? You’ve been moving the boat all over, and if you’re forced to stay on land, you might be easier for them to find. It’s just a guess. We still don’t know what they want.”
She hurried toward the Jeep and slung herself under the wheel. She started the engine with a shaking hand. How did life get totally upended in just a few days? And why would anyone want to hurt her? Or Annabelle, for that matter?
Ridge approached with Bear in his arms. He opened the back door of the Wrangler and settled the dog and his food onto the seat before he got into the passenger seat. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll call the police while you drive.”
Ridge pulled out his phone and made the call. He informed the police that they weren’t staying at the location and gave the dispatcher his number. “They’ll let us know what they find out.”
He tapped on an app. “Let’s list the things we know. You and Annabelle both ran a DNA search and found each other and discovered similarities between your mothers’ deaths. The current situation seems to indicate the killer is still alive.”
“Our dad.”
“Or someone else. Let’s not limit our possible perpetrators.” He tapped in several lines of text. “I’m texting Scott what we heard about Joe Mitchell. Maybe he can find him and interview him.”
“Their deaths were twenty years apart. Who else would do it besides my dad? I doubt this Joe Mitchell knew my mother.”
“Maybe not, but someone knew them both somehow. A mentor.”
“Another mermaid? Though my mother was never a mermaid as far as I know.”
“We know she went to talk to a mermaid before she died. We need to ask questions about that.”
Harper pulled into Oliver’s drive. “We’re going in circles and nothing is really clicking.”
“Not yet, but we’ll figure it out.”
Harper got out and retrieved her satchel. Time was running out on finding the truth, and they weren’t any closer than they were last week.
* * *
The gentle flame in the fireplace added a homey feeling to the room. Ridge had made sure the alarms were activated before he settled in a big armchair by the fire. Harper was on the white leather sofa across from him with Bear on her lap. Bear had sniffed around the house before he decided it was acceptable. He seemed at home now curled nose to tail on her legs.
She looked beautiful tonight. Her red hair was loose on the shoulders of her orange T-shirt, and her long tanned legs were in denim shorts. He liked being able to sit and admire her. Things had changed so much between them over the past week. He’d considered her an enemy for so long, but this complete turnaround felt right.
“How could my dad’s death be related to the attacks on you and Annabelle?”
Her hand paused midstroke along Bear’s back. “You dismissed that idea when I brought it up. I thought you suspected it had something to do with his estate.”
“I assumed so at first, but I’ve been thinking about what you said. The charities in his will wouldn’t have arranged for his death. At least I can’t imagine it. And I don’t believe Willow had anything to do with it. So that leaves the original attacker. If the killer is the same person who attacked him underwater, what might Dad have seen that he wanted to keep quiet?”
“The person’s identity.”
He’d already considered that. “I’m not sure Dad would have been able to describe him. He might never have gotten his memory back. And water distorts everything. The mask and the mouthpiece would make the guy hard to recognize too.”
Ridge passed her a bowl of peanut M&Ms, and she took a small handful. He took a couple himself and popped them in his mouth. “What else?”
“It could be whoever is trying to sabotage the pen shell beds.”
“Eric Kennedy,” he said.
She ate a piece of candy. “What would be his motive for it though? All he wants is for us to move the beds. That’s not worth committing murder to accomplish.”
“True. So we’ve got several players and not just one? Someone is after you and Annabelle for an unknown reason. Someone killed my father, and someone wants to disrupt the pen shell beds. That seems a stretch to have all of those interested parties lash out at once. My priority right now is keeping you safe. Which means we need to figure out who’s behind the attack on you and Annabelle.”
What was the key piece of information they we
re missing?
Harper drew her legs up under her. “Your father could have been an innocent bystander to the attack on me. I still think whoever attacked me tried to get him out of the way first. Then he was killed so he couldn’t identify the attacker.”
She put Bear down and rose. “I think I’ll make some coffee. Want some?”
“I can do it.”
“You might not make it strong enough for me.” She left the trailing scent of plumeria behind her as she headed for the kitchen.
He stood and stretched, then followed her into the cavernous kitchen with its bank of gray cabinets and marble counters. She stood in front of the coffeepot looking around. “Where’d this thing come from? Last I knew, Oliver had a Cuisinart.”
Ridge grinned. “I knew you’d need help. He brought this monstrosity back from his last trip.”
Dad’s copper contraption took up its own special bar. It almost looked like a copper and brass R2-D2 with arms coming out on the sides.
She held her palms up. “What is this thing?”
“It’s an Elektra Belle Epoque. Made in Italy. Dad saw one when he was there a few weeks ago. Let me show you.” He demonstrated how to grind the coffee and direct the hot water. In minutes he had two cappuccinos.
She took a sip and sighed. “Heaven.”
“That’s what Dad said. He thought it was worth the twenty grand.”
Her beautiful eyes widened. “He paid that much for a coffee machine? I think his old Cuisinart would do.”
“You know how Dad was. He had to have the best of everything.”
“I didn’t see that side of him quite so clearly as I do now.”
He put his coffee mug down on the marble counter. Ideas flooded in so fast he could hardly articulate them. “It appeared the attacker wasn’t out to kill you but to take you with him. And Annabelle wasn’t harmed either. She was abducted, then released when they found out she had cancer. That’s pretty odd.”
She nodded. “Why not kill her? Whoever he is, he has already killed two women in the past. Why try to take us alive?”
Strands of Truth Page 18