Kidnapped

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Kidnapped Page 8

by Dee Henderson


  “We’ll talk after you get some sleep.” He took the dishes to the sink, rinsed them, and stacked them in the dishwasher.

  “I’m scared to sleep. They’re out there somewhere, needing help, and I’m sleeping.”

  “Finish the tea.” A marathon was coming, and she was still thinking sprint. “With the coming of dawn, the world will be at your doorstep, all wanting to help. You’ll need your voice to answer all the questions.”

  She turned her glass around. “I want to stay with you later today, wherever you go.”

  “You’d survive better if you stayed a step away from the investigation.”

  “If we don’t find them, what does it matter? There will be only me. Without family, who cares how neatly I survive this?”

  He sighed. That made two of them. Without Mark around, what was his life going to be worth? He rested his hand on her shoulder. They’d been tossed out of the same boat and both expected to swim. “Go sleep while you can. We’re in this together, Caroline, for as long as God allows this storm to last.”

  She covered his hand briefly with her own, and maybe that was the one encouraging point in the night—they were in it together. They weren’t exactly in sync with each other, but they were in the same storm. “I’ll wake you at six. Try not to dream.”

  She tried to smile. “No problem. Life is enough of a nightmare right now. Get some sleep too, Luke. You look awful.”

  He rubbed his face. “Yeah. I feel it too.”

  Her eyes met his, and the emotion in them— She reached over and hugged him hard, then abruptly left the room.

  * * *

  For the first time since the suspicion that something was wrong had set in yesterday afternoon, Caroline had nothing else to distract her from her thoughts. If only the images and fears would go away. Only the faint sounds of wood creaking as the cool night air contracted floorboards broke the silence. Tonight she only wished that footsteps of weary family members making it back home were on the stairs to wake her up.

  Caroline’s bedroom was at the end of the hall, the room she had used since she was a child, decorated now in soft white walls, with colorful pillows and throws for splashes of impact. The room was simple, but hers, and comforting.

  She tugged back the blankets and moved the pillows to her preferred pile on her right. She set the alarm clock for 5:40 a.m. She could be ready to join Luke at six o’clock. She picked up the hairbrush from the bedside table but didn’t have the energy to use it.

  Something horrible happened to them; there was no other explanation. Jesus, I just want to curl up and retreat from life, from this gaping wound and unbearable pain. We have to find them. I need to be out there looking, even though I know experts are already searching.

  She got to her feet, left the hairbrush, and headed out into the hall. Her parents’ bedroom had been turned into a guest room and sitting room years before. Her sister had used the bedroom across the hall from hers, and Benjamin had his own room near the front of the house where the dormer angled out from the wall. Caroline walked down to Benjamin’s room and sat on the slender bed.

  He’d left a book on the bedside table. She opened it to the bookmark he’d made from a thin blue strip of colored paper glued to a piece of cardboard. He penciled on the bookmark his own bar graph to record how many books he read this year. Caroline smiled and set the book back down.

  She picked up his pillow and hugged it. So many memories were in this room. Days of tucking him in and reading him a last story. Nights when he had whispered questions like: Could he be in her fifth-grade class one day? Would she help him make his mom a bracelet for her birthday? Was Mark really going to be his new father? She was his aunt, and he trusted her to back up what his mom said, to tell her his thoughts and dreams. He liked to try ideas out on her before testing them on his mom.

  It had been several weeks since Ben last spent a night under this roof on a sleepover. He was still getting comfortable with the security of his new home, and Caroline understood his subconscious desire not to be away from Sharon and Mark for long. Benjamin hero-worshiped his new dad, and it was still sinking in that permanent really meant forever.

  Caroline curled up on Benjamin’s bed and pulled over a second thin pillow. Hang tough, Benjamin. Luke will find all of you.

  Sharon was a strong woman. She had made it through medical school while married with a son. She had survived the shock of her husband Zachary’s unexpected death. She had picked up and come back to Benton to build a good life for herself and her son. She’d had the courage to say yes when Mark proposed.

  Sharon, I’m going to be lost without you. If you’re hurt, if someone grabbed you, if you’re protecting Benjamin—please, figure out a way to get word to us. I’ve always counted on you to figure out what to do.

  Caroline wiped at the tears flowing onto the pillow. She wasn’t sure how Luke was getting through this night. It was his family too. If she could guess at what might have happened, Luke had firsthand experience on which to base his suspicions. As much as she hated his silence and distance, deep in her heart she knew he was staying silent because he likely did know what had happened, and it would be news too hard for her to hear.

  Jesus, I’m just so scared.

  Caroline closed her eyes and wished for the night to be over.

  * * *

  Luke turned on the couch, tossing off pillows and trying to get comfortable, needing to be downstairs rather than in the guest room to hear if something was disturbed outside.

  What was he dealing with? Who? Why Mark and Sharon and Benjamin? The boy was a good kid; he would do the Falcon name proud for the next generation. Luke sighed. He should have paid better attention to the details of the suspicious events occurring around Caroline last fall and what they suggested about the stalker’s behavior. How much of what was happening today was rooted in those days?

  He watched moonlight shadows drift across the wall. Mark might survive a fight, Sharon would try to negotiate an out, but Benjamin had no defenses. He was resourceful, not as likely to realize the extent of the personal danger he was in, but defenseless to the emotional hit if he saw someone hurt his mom. Luke closed his eyes at that image. He couldn’t even imagine where the three of them might be found.

  Just let it be something I can deal with, Lord. Even if it’s a snatch and a ransom—something for which there’s at least hope they will be found alive.

  Life already had a before and after quality to it. He would gladly trade his own life for any of theirs. His worst fear was that he wouldn’t have the chance.

  Chapter Ten

  Caroline got up quietly after two hours, her sleep too filled with nightmarish images to close her eyes again. She pulled on sweats and heavy socks. Not wanting to wake Luke by going downstairs, she settled in the sitting room, which had once been her parents’ room, curling up on the rocking chair with a blanket across her lap to keep warm.

  Her attention drifted across the photos and the books, the display shelves with mementos from family trips. So many memories here . . .

  Unable to help herself, she reached for the photo album on the bottom shelf of the table beside the rocking chair and set it in her lap. The old album needed retaping to hold the spine together and saved programs and ribbons moved to a more secure box, but it was a project still waiting to be done. Her family had documented everything in photos, from the proud loss of a first tooth to the high school debate finals.

  Caroline opened the album and ran her finger across the photo of her dad. “I wish you were here.”

  She let the tears fall as she turned through pages of Sharon’s first wedding, the baby shower, and Benjamin’s birth. If these memories became her only connection to her sister, as the photos were the last links to her parents— She bit her lip to hold back a sob.

  O God, it hurts.

  With an unsteady hand she retrieved Benjamin’s birth announcement, remembering the hours she and Sharon had spent choosing the card and the words. Being
Benjamin’s aunt was one of the best things that ever happened in her life. If he were her own son, she couldn’t love him more.

  “Do you remember New Year’s Eve?”

  She looked up, startled, and hurriedly wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

  Luke took a seat in the big chair beside her that her father had loved. “I wasn’t sleeping well either.”

  “What about New Year’s Eve?”

  “Cramming into that photo booth because you wanted a photo of us together to remember the night?”

  She smiled. She’d forgotten, but it was obvious he hadn’t. “I like photos.”

  He reached over, closed the photo album, and gently took it from her. “Then don’t let these make you sad. They are good memories. Let them stay good.”

  “I don’t know what to do with the fear.”

  At this odd hour of the night, it was okay to admit it. And she loved him all the more when he didn’t tell her right now to trust God and stay brave and keep hoping.

  He just extended a foot and started her chair rocking gently. “Close your eyes for a bit. I’m here. The nightmares will stay at bay this time.”

  She had his undivided attention. They wouldn’t be interrupted, and under any other circumstances she would have sought to talk about their future and settle the disquiet that had been building over the last weeks. She had to tell him of her need to know if their relationship would develop into something much more serious or would it return to just being friends. But it wasn’t a night that could absorb one more emotional note. She closed her eyes. “I enjoyed that New Year’s Eve.”

  “So did I, Caroline.”

  She let herself remember that night, wanting to be back in those happier times.

  * * *

  A carnival was not how Caroline had expected Luke to want to bring in the new year, but she was willing to admit it was growing on her.

  She laughed at the strange balloon animal he handed her. “I’m not going to ask.”

  “Think giraffe meets ostrich; it’s nothing but a very long neck and very thin legs.”

  “I suppose it can be construed that way.”

  He handed a bill to the balloon vender and then reached for her hand. “You asked for as many gifts as possible that were basically made of air, and you have to admit, I’m excelling at the challenge.”

  “The cotton candy was delicious too.”

  “For pure air volume, the blown glass figurine beat it in spades. Are you up to another ride?”

  She studied the Ferris wheel ahead of them, the colorful lights twinkling in the dark sky. “I admit to being overwhelmed with movement. We’d better just plan to sit awhile.”

  “The twirly seats did you in.”

  “I think it was the spinning barrel where the floor dropped away.”

  The carnival crowd had grown as midnight approached, and finding a table at one of the food spots turned out to be a challenge. Luke cleared away trays at a small table for two and created them a place. “Would you like more coffee or something to eat?”

  “Get us some chips to share? Salt sounds good right now.”

  “Be right back.”

  Her arms had filled with packages during the evening, and she settled the sacks around her. When he returned, she shifted aside her pad of paper and helped him set down the tray. “Your idea of something to share is a meal.”

  “Bigger is always the better value.”

  She didn’t laugh although her lips twitched. She picked up a tortilla chip and tried the salsa. She liked his taste in food. He turned her pad of paper toward him.

  “It’s tradition on New Year’s Eve to look back at the year and try to decide how life will improve.”

  “You just like lists,” Luke replied, grinning at her.

  “I’m good at them.”

  “Buy new car. Take Benjamin to see a musical. Get graduate course catalog for master’s program. Sleep more.” He slid her list back around. “Those last two sound mutually exclusive.”

  “Getting the course catalog is not the same as signing up for classes, Luke.”

  “It’s one of those long long-term goals.”

  “Exactly.”

  He ate a chip. “You forgot a couple important ones.”

  “Such as?”

  “Buy more candy sticks.”

  “You liked those, did you?”

  “Benjamin and I have good taste. Those old-fashioned candy jars you keep on the counter are unique; I like that.”

  She wrote it down.

  “Add one specifically for me: Date Luke.”

  Her pen missed the paper. “You just got done telling me you don’t date.”

  “When did I say that?”

  “On the log ride—which, let me point out, had water much colder than you predicted.”

  “It’s going to be January in a couple hours; it’s supposed to be cold water. I said I don’t date because of my job, as in make a habit of it. For you, I’ll make an exception.”

  She bit her lip.

  “Write it down,” he offered helpfully.

  She wrote it down. “I don’t understand you.”

  “I’m not that hard to figure out. I don’t have enough free time to make elaborate what should be simple decisions.”

  “You met me at the wedding over three months ago and invited me to tonight. Now you’re asking about the next year.”

  “If I don’t ask, how are you going to say yes?”

  Caroline laughed. “I suppose there is some logic to that.”

  “When you have to compress a relationship into the time available, and it’s agonizingly short, it gets easier to focus on the things that matter.” He ate another chip.

  “You planned this evening, Luke.”

  “Just the when and where. The thing that mattered most was your being here.”

  “It’s going to take me a while to get used to the nonwork side of you. You’re not nearly as serious about life as Mark is.”

  He smiled. “Mark planned Christmas Day, did he?”

  “Mark wanted their first Christmas to be enjoyed by everyone. It was nice. We even went for a sleigh ride.”

  “I don’t get that detailed. And my job is serious enough; there’s no reason to let my occasional day away stay serious.”

  “My schedule is a bit of a challenge during the school year. And you live an hour away from Benton.”

  “We’ll figure it out. What would you like to do next?”

  “We need a picture to memorialize tonight.”

  “We do?”

  She nodded. “For my scrapbook.”

  “I’m not big into pictures.”

  “Tough.”

  He laughed. “I suppose I could go along with this, just as long as I get a copy of it.”

  “Admit it; you keep photos around. I know you picked out a couple from the wedding photos. Sharon told me.”

  “I liked how you blushed. Which you’re doing again by the way.”

  “Don’t remind me.” She slipped from her chair. “I’m going to go find a mirror. Watch the packages?”

  “I’ll even save you the last chip,” he promised.

  She knew he watched as she joined the crowd. Luke Falcon was not what she expected, not even close. And it made her smile.

  * * *

  Luke left Caroline in the rocker, knowing the sleep mattered more than the comfort of a bed. If they got the bad news he feared, she would be struggling to get that sleep in the days ahead. People who had lost loved ones often ended up working nights so they could sleep days. The hours after dark and the memories they brought were so heavy as to make sleep impossible.

  Her house had floorboards that creaked, but he moved slow enough to keep the sounds to a minimum. He didn’t look at a clock. He picked up the quilt he had set aside on the couch and stretched out again.

  If Caroline lost her family, Luke knew he was going to lose her too. There were not enough good memories built up
between them to overcome the weight of this weekend. This day would be the raw memory she could never get past. He wiped his eyes and closed them, longing to find the escape of sleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  Luke woke to the sound of a phone ringing. He pushed himself up on the couch, his left arm numb, his back aching at the twisted way he had slept. He grabbed for his phone on the side table. “Luke Falcon.”

  “They found Mark,” Jackie said.

  So close to a nightmare, so pushed without sleep, Luke heard Jackie’s words, and his first instinct was to see blood. “Where?” he choked out.

  “He’s alive. A country road near the home he designed, a farmer’s pond. The car is wrecked and in the water. Mark extricated himself from the car and out of the water before he collapsed. The paramedics haven’t even reached him yet. I’m giving you what the sheriff called into the dispatcher less than a minute ago.”

  He saw the clock. 5:10 a.m. His cousin had dumped his car into water a good twelve hours ago. “Is he conscious?”

  “It doesn’t sound like it. An air ambulance is on the way to the scene. Hold on, dispatch is working to get me a radio link with the sheriff.” Jackie dropped off the line. Luke reached for his shoes and tugged them on with one hand. Jackie came back. “It sounds like Mark has serious chest injuries. Luke, if you want to see him before he’s airlifted to the hospital, you’ve got to go now. You might just be able to get there in time.”

  Luke pulled over the pad of paper. “Give me the directions.”

  She listed country road turns. “As bad as this is, it’s still good news.”

  “He’s alive. But it leaves a lot of confusion. If Mark simply had an accident . . .” Luke was still sorting out the implications of it. “I really hoped they were all together. Anything at all on Sharon and Ben?”

  “No. We’ve got full media coverage ready to go with the 6 a.m. newscast. The command centers in Benton and Atlanta will be operational shortly thereafter.”

  “I’ll call you back from the site.”

  Luke tore off the page of directions and bolted for the stairs to wake Caroline. “Caroline.”

 

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