“But he’s our baby. I…” Katrina sobbed. “I can’t.”
“You’re either part of the problem or part of the solution.” The man loved his quotes. “If you’re part of the solution, you get to live. Make a choice.”
Still crying, Katrina nodded. “OK. OK.”
“Yeah that’s what I thought.” He moved closer to Danica. “Now, I’m taking you to a happy place. This won’t hurt a bit. You’ll enjoy it.”
Danica kicked at him.
“Don’t worry. I’m not ready to kill you yet. This’ll just make you feel good.” He held up a syringe and laughed. Then his voice turned cold. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Don’t bother me none. Take your pick.”
Danica thought about her chances. Connor might remember he’d said Mrs. McKay’s name. He might talk to her. He might figure out where Danica went. He might tell the police. That was a lot of “mights.” And Bobby Lee was asking if she wanted to die the hard way or the easy way. Help me, Lord.
I am with you, always.
Fragile peace descended into Danica’s soul. “The easy way.”
“That’s what I thought.” He moved in and pressed the needle into her arm. “It won’t take but a minute.”
The tension left her body so quickly she slumped. Her vision darkened. At the end of the dark tunnel, a cross blinked.
He laughed. “Enjoy the happy place.”
13
Connor walked with FBI Agent Montgomery to Marth McKay’s doorbell and rang it. She’d been going to his church when he became the pastor but left shortly after that. According to others, it wasn’t because of him.
The door opened. “Mrs. McKay, I’m Reverend Connor McDonald from the Good News Church.”
Her voice was tired—almost resigned. “I know who you are. You probably don’t remember but I used to go to Good News.”
“Of course, I remember you.”
“Even if I didn’t know you, your picture and the church are all over the news. And you are?” she asked the man standing beside Connor.
“I’m Agent Montgomery. From the FBI.” The agent held up his credentials.
She opened the door wider. “Well you might as well come in. It’s freezing out there.”
The warmth of her home felt good.
“You don’t seem surprised to see us,” Connor said.
“I figured Danica would send you all over here.”
“Danica was here? When?”
“I don’t know. A couple of hours ago. Didn’t she tell you? Isn’t that why you’re here? She asked a lot of questions about my niece, and I didn’t appreciate the implications. Not one bit.”
“What sort of questions, ma’am?” Agent Montgomery asked.
“Mostly about where Katrina—that’s my niece—lived. I kept telling her Katrina wouldn’t have anything to do with kidnapping that poor little baby but Danica didn’t want to hear that. Katrina’s a good girl. She just had a few problems.”
“Is Katrina still using drugs, ma’am?”
Martha McKay’s hands fluttered as she glared at the FBI agent. “I wouldn’t know anything about that. All I know is she was clean while she was living here. She wanted her baby to be born healthy, and he was. “
The agent nodded. “When was the last time you talked to your niece?”
“Actually a few minutes ago. I tried to call Danica back to tell her not to bother driving up to Akron in this weather.”
“Why did Katrina call, ma’am?”
“To apologize for not calling sooner and to tell me she’s on her way to Florida for a few weeks. She said she needed to get away. It’s been rough. Her baby dying and all.” She looked at the agent again. Her chin jutted out as she said, “Nothing wrong with that.”
“Nothing at all, Mrs. McKay.” Connor didn’t want to upset her any more.
“I knew she didn’t have anything to do with taking that baby. I told Danica that. And that proves it. She wouldn’t be going to Florida if she’d taken that baby, right?”
“When did her baby die, ma’am?”
“I’m not sure. She’s been a bit vague about the details. Didn’t even want a funeral for the poor thing. Her mother and I said we’d pay for the expenses, but she still refused. I guess she took care of it by herself.”
What kind of a mother refused to have a funeral for her child?
“I’ll need her address and phone number,” the agent said.
“This is ridiculous. She didn’t have anything to do with taking Leah and Mark’s baby. She wouldn’t do that. I’m telling you. And she’s not even home. I already told you she’s on her way to Florida. Katrina’s a sweet girl.”
“I’m sure she is, ma’am. Can you get that information for me?”
She sighed but walked away. A few minutes later, she came back in the room and handed Connor a piece of paper. He memorized the address before handing it to the agent.
The agent slipped it in his pocket. “Thank you, ma’am. By the way, what kind of a car does your niece have?”
She rolled her eyes. “An old clunker. It’s supposed to be brown and white but there’s so much rust you wouldn’t know that. I don’t know the make or the model, but it’s some sort of station wagon.”
14
Connor skidded the car to a stop as they parked a few houses away from the Barnes’. The news trucks had the premium spots.
Montgomery was out of the car and running toward the house before Connor even had the car in park.
Katrina had to be the kidnapper. Both men agreed on that.
Connor felt they should go to her house in Akron and check it out, especially since he was sure Danica was on her way there.
Agent Montgomery felt the best course of action was to search the roadways that Katrina would take to Florida. But he wasn’t the agent in charge. Fellers would decide how to proceed.
Instead of getting out, Connor picked up his cell phone and called Danica again. Why wasn’t she answering? It could be dangerous for her to barge into Karina’s house looking for Angelica. Danica had never been one to follow the rules. He hoped she’d changed in that regard.
Connor redialed as he stared at the house. Mark and Leah had a lot of friends sitting with them. They didn’t need him but he had a bad feeling that Danica might.
****
Can’t move….something wrong…so confused…so tired…need to do something but can’t remember what. Must not be that important…
Her pocket vibrated—again.
Oh…her phone not her pocket. Maybe Leah was calling to tell her they’d found Angelica. Danica’s eyes drooped shut once more. Should…answer phone. She opened her eyes but only a blur of light shone above her…Jesus? No, something wass wrong. She closed her eyes and then opened them. Still a blur, but better. She tried to stand but her legs wouldn’t cooperate. She looked down at her feet. Something was wrapped around them. She reached for them, but her hands stayed behind her back. Memories flooded back.
Katrina…the man she called Bobby Lee…a baby, but not Angelica. Katrina’s little boy.
Bobby Lee said he would sell the boy and Angelica. But where was Angelica?
She had to stop him. Her head sagged. He’d shot her up with something. She shuddered. How long had she been out? What had happened during that time? She had to get out of here—he’d promised to kill her and she had no reason not to believe him.
Her pocket vibrated.
She moved her hands…searching…and there it was. Bobby Lee and Katrina hadn’t taken it. “Thank You, God.”
It stopped ringing.
Danica slid her fingers into her back pocket and pulled the phone out. She could do this even if she couldn’t see. All she had to do was hit the phone icon, then three little numbers—9-1-1—and hit send.
How hard could that be—even if she couldn’t see the phone since it was behind her back?
After fifteen minutes, she understood just how hard. She needed a different plan. She’d wasted too mu
ch time with the phone. She struggled to her knees and knee-walked toward the window. She didn’t care if she was on a second floor—she was throwing herself through that window. It had to be better than sitting here waiting for Bobby Lee to come back.
Voices came from the hall.
“No. you can’t have him. I did what you wanted. You promised to leave us alone. You promised.”
“Don’t make me mad, Kat.”
“No. I won’t—”
A slapping sound.
And then a moan. “I love my baby. Please don’t take him.”
“I don’t care what you want. You’ll do what I say, or I’ll be burying two bodies. Now I said go get those babies ready while I deal with this little troublemaker.”
Babies? He’d said babies. Angelica was here. “Please God, help me.” She had to get out of here, to get help. For Angelica. Danica leaned against the window to stand then turned her back so her hands could lift up the glass.
Katrina was screaming at Bobby Lee, who yelled back.
Good. Keep arguing. The struggle happening in the hall pushed her forward. Danica tugged on the window but nothing happened. Her hands walked up the glass searching. Her fingers curled around the lock just as the door opened.
“Get away from that window. Now.”
She twisted the lock. It moved, but he was coming toward her. She pushed her shoulder into the window. Glass shattered. Jagged edges scraped against her shoulder. She ducked down and began screaming for help.
Bobby Lee’s hands grabbed her by the hair and pulled her away. He knocked her to the floor, but she managed to jump back up and half-charged, half-hopped at him. She lowered her head and went for his stomach.
They both toppled to the floor. The struggle was short-lived.
Without her hands or feet free, she couldn’t really fight him off.
When he’d subdued her, he slapped her—hard enough for her to see stars.
She lay there panting, trying to slow her breathing. Please God, let somebody have heard me.
He stood at the window for a few moments and then turned toward her with a smile. “Doesn’t look like anyone heard you. That was very brave of you. Of course, it was also very stupid because now you made me mad. And you’re going to pay for that.” He pulled out a syringe. “Another shot of this, and you won’t care. Not a bad way to go.” He moved toward her.
“Please, God, protect me.”
“Ha ha. That’s a good one. You think God can protect you from me?”
As he leaned down, she kicked at his face. He laughed as he grabbed her legs. She fought to keep away from him. The needle pricked her skin.
A commotion from outside the room distracted him, he jumped up. “Katrina, so help me….” He bellowed, then looked back at Danica. “I’ll be back.” He walked out.
The needle was sticking in her thigh. She pulled it out with her bound hands. Her vision blurred…a sense of euphoria. Her eyelids drooped. “Please, God, don’t let me pass out.” Her gaze landed on a lighter on the floor. It must have fallen from his pocket during the struggle.
Perfect.
Fire always got people’s attention.
15
Danica crawled to the crib and pulled up to a stand. No babies. She hit the switch on the lighter and held the flame to the sheet. The flame grew larger. She lit the soft baby blanket. When she was sure it was burning she pulled it through the rungs of the crib. Smoke was filling the room as the fire did its work in the crib.
Katrina was somewhere in the house getting the babies ready.
Danica hopped to the window and tossed the blanket through the shattered glass onto the roof. Would the snow-covered roof catch on fire? She had to get the police here before they left with Angelica. The snow near the burning baby blanket quickly turned to water. “Please, please, please burn.”
A corner of the shingle sparked.
The door opened behind her.
Bobby Lee blasted into the room with a few choice words, including some not so lovely names for her. “I’m sick of you. You want to set the whole house on fire. Do it. And you can die in here. That just makes it easier for me.” He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her across the room.
She struggled to get away but wasn’t able to break free.
He opened a closet and shoved her in.
The door shut with the click of a lock.
The danger loomed, almost overwhelming her. In the darkness, the adrenaline seeped out and the drugs took effect. Please keep Angelica safe. She struggled to stay conscious, but the drugs and the smoke were winning. She could only pray that she’d done enough to bring the authorities to the house. For Angelica. She feebly kicked on the door.
Would Connor be sad when they found her?
So glad…I forgave…him…
I am with you, always.
Danica rested in the Lord’s promise.
****
Connor drove down the narrow streets of the older neighborhood that had seen better days. Sirens blared—cars honked—busses and trucks added to the noise and confusion. Larger cities might have advantages like more restaurants and museums, but he’d take the peace and quiet of Shreve any day over this madness. He found the address—an old dilapidated house that might have been green at one point in the past but not any longer. He parked his car. His heart thumped.
A car with Florida license plates sat in front of him. Danica’s? Had to be. He reached for the door handle. His hand froze just above it. In front of the house was an old brown and white station wagon. Here. Not on the way to Florida. Connor pulled out his phone but then something caught his attention.
Smoke poured out of a window on the second floor. A fire? With Danica in the house? Everything in him wanted to run inside and search for the woman he loved. Instead, he called 9-1-1 and gave the operator the address.
The front door opened. Two people walked out. Neither of them was Danica. Each held a baby.
It took a moment for his brain to catch up with what he was seeing. Two babies. One of them had to be Angelica. He screamed in the phone, “Hurry up. I just found a kidnapped baby. I need the police here. Now.”
“What do you mean you found a—”
He gave the address before he clicked the phone off. He didn’t have time to talk.
The two of them were hurrying down the steps even as the flames grew larger on the second floor of the house. The woman jumped in the backseat and clutched the babies to her.
Where were the police?
Where was Danica? In the burning house—he had to get her out.
The station wagon roared to life.
Every fiber of his being urged him to ignore the car. To find Danica. He had to get to her before it was too late, but Danica would want him to save Angelica. He started his car just as the station wagon pulled from its parking spot.
Connor put the car in drive, turned the wheel sharply, and pushed on the gas. The tires squealed as it surged forward. Then he slammed into the driver’s side of the station wagon, praying the babies would be safe. The impact jerked him forward and his airbag deployed.
Not so with the station wagon. Either it didn’t have an airbag or it was damaged in some way.
The other driver, a man, who had a cut above his eye that was bleeding profusely, stared at Connor, his expression going from shock to anger to rage. The man motioned for him to move his car.
Connor feigned ignorance and opened his car door. He walked toward the brown and white station wagon, his car bumper crumpled in the driver’s door.
The man rolled down his window. Both babies were screaming at the top of their lungs. Hopefully, that meant they weren’t seriously hurt. The man yelled over the howling babies. “Look, I’m in a hurry so just move your car, and we’ll forget all about this.”
Connor showed his phone. “I’ll call the cops and report the accident. It shouldn’t take them long to get here.” He fought to keep his gaze on the man and not the growing fire.
�
��I said I don’t have time. Just move your car.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s what we’re supposed to do. We need to wait for the police.”
“Look, move your car. I don’t have time for this. Got it?”
“Those babies aren’t in baby seats. That’s against the law. “
Fury took over the man’s expression.
Hurry up, Police. Connor’s gaze strayed to the smoke and flames coming out of the second story window. Keep her safe, Lord. “Looks as if your house is on fire, sir.”
The man struggled to open his door, but Connor’s bumper kept him safely ensconced.
Sirens. Finally.
The man moved across the seat and toward the other door.
Connor needed to get to Danica before it was too late, but he couldn’t let the man take Angelica.
The woman in the backseat still held the babies—one in each arm.
A moment later the man was out of the car and opening the back door. “Come on. We gotta get outa here.”
The man’s back was turned to him.
“Here take one of them so I can get out.” Katrina shoved a baby at the man.
As the man reached down, Connor grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him. The man tried to shrug him off, but Connor pulled him away from the car. “You’re not taking that baby anywhere.”
The man turned toward Connor, his fist ready, but Connor bent and head-butted the man in the stomach. The man doubled over.
A moment later a cruiser pulled up.
Thank You, Lord.
A female officer jumped out. “I got a report of a kidnapped baby.”
“Right here. One of these babies is Angelica Barnes.” He was already running toward the house.
“You can’t leave. I have questions.”
“The house is on fire, and someone’s in there.” Not just someone—the love of his life. He yelled her name as he ran up the porch steps and opened the door. “Dani! Danica!” He kept yelling as he ran up the steps toward the fire. A thick wall of smoke roiled as he made his way up the stairs.
A Christmas Stolen (Christmas Holiday Extravaganza) Page 7