Connie turned slightly away, brought her hands up to massage her forehead, and to hide the fact that her poise was deserting her. Her fingers felt shaky, as did her gut. Unsettling question marks had very quickly replaced the semblance of closure she’d worked so hard for and then known for such a short while, and that both surprised her and made her jittery. Yesterday she knew who she was and where she was, and today she wasn’t so sure. The man who stood next to her still had the power to unnerve her, to make her want him all over again. And that scared her.
But never had she allowed confusion or nerves to rule her. She glanced up, gave Derek a direct look but was careful to put neither challenge nor committal in it. He returned her steady gaze. And then she turned to lead the way back to the farmhouse. One step at a time.
Chapter Fourteen“Sure can think of better ways to waste a morning,” Max said disgustedly as he trudged into the farmhouse that afternoon.
He stood aside while a morose Petey followed him in. As Max watched him, concern seemed to replace his irritation. He closed the door and caught his brother’s arm. “I told you this is not your fault,” he said, voice and gaze level. “You didn’t know what you were doing, but he did. You are not at fault here. He is. Do you understand that?”
Petey stared at the floor for a long moment, then finally lifted his gaze. He nodded, but his forlorn expression belied the nod. Max waited a beat, squeezed his brother’s arm, and then released him.
He caught Christopher’s eye. “Chris, why don’t you and Petey dismantle your garage over there, and go set it up outside under the tree? That way you can have real dirt instead of pretend dirt for your dump trucks.”
Christopher’s face brightened, but he directed a questioning look at his friend, awaiting his approval before making a move.
Petey’s manner made an abrupt about-face. “Yeah. We won’t have to worry about the babies getting into our stuff.” His gaze roamed the room and hall, as if looking for little people, and he added in a conspiratorial whisper, “Hurry, before they get in here.”
Their enthusiasm grew as they worked, their voices bubbling with excitement, and they kept shushing each other so as not to wake up the little spoilers. As he watched them, Max’s expression smoothed itself out.
Once the two were out the door, their arms loaded with miniature garage parts and toy vehicles, the three remaining people looked expectantly at Max. Connie stood at the entrance to the kitchen. Moose had just entered from the hall after checking on the twins, who were napping in his room. Derek was at the window. Max looked at each person in turn, and then lifted his shoulders in a resigned shrug. Connie considered that shrug to be his trademark.
“Wasn’t home,” he explained succinctly. “Out of town. Back by the weekend.”
Four pairs of eyes looked in different directions in various expressions of defeat.
“Zero accomplished,” Moose said.
“Zilch,” Max agreed. “All that buildup, and now we get to sit around and wait some more.”
“And waiting is the only thing you can do,” Derek warned. “Don’t even think about doing anything else.” Three sets of eyes looked at him. He chose to answer Connie’s. “That’s right. They need to wait, not rob that store again, or do anything else even remotely illegal. They need to sit it out, as difficult as that may be.”
She felt her gaze sharpening as she regarded him. “One way or another, they are going to get that comic book back.” The extent of her aggression surprised her, and she saw that it’d angered Derek. His mouth set itself in a straight line, and then he turned and stared out the window at Petey and Chris.
“Don’t worry about it, Uncle Dare,” Max said, face and voice void of expression. “I’m not going to do anything. The truth is I have neither the heart nor will to do anything else.”
Connie hated the defeat she saw in him, even more than the defeat she felt in herself.
Max went to the refrigerator and pulled out a can of root beer. The easy-open pop-top wasn’t living up to its name; he swore under his breath, changed hands, but still couldn’t get it. Connie stood next to him so she took it, got her fingernail under the tab and popped it up, then handed the can back.
He frowned at the can, then her. Lifting her shoulders, she showed him her palms in a questioning attitude. “What?”
Moose covered his mouth, smothering a cough.
Appearing even more dejected, Max shook his head and sipped his soda.
Derek continued to stare silently out the window, not bothering to move the organdy sheers aside. Max crossed the room and joined him. “Petey’s going to miss Chris,” he said. “Going to miss him real bad.”
“Really bad,” Connie corrected absently.
Derek’s head snapped around. “You correct his grammar, but it’s okay for him to commit armed robbery?”
Connie made a bewildered gesture. This was her day for being frowned at.
Derek turned back to the window. “And it’s really badly, not really bad. If you’re going to correct someone, correct him correctly.”
Max and Moose exchanged long looks.
Max cleared his throat. “My timing might be pretty bad here,” he paused and looked from Derek to Connie and back again. “Bad or badly?”
Connie massaged the bridge of her nose, and Derek gave him a straight-on look. Max stared blandly back, and Derek gave in with a grudging grin. “Okay, I had that coming. Go on.”
“You might as well go home once the babies wake up, and I need to know what your plans are. If you’re going to tell all right away, or if you’ll hold back until the weekend and give us some time.”
“Oh, for…” Connie looked at the ceiling. “Damn! Damn! Damn!”
Three heads jerked toward her. She seldom swore—it wasn’t a good habit for a schoolteacher to form—but that was the only word that fit. She gave Derek a pleading look. “How could I forget that? I don’t believe he…it…er, whatever, never even crossed my mind.”
His steady expression assured her he hadn’t overlooked what she had.
Her sense of defeat grew. She looked at Max, then Moose. “We…he…well, our …”
“What she’s trying to say is that we won’t be able to hold anything back,” Derek explained. “Once Chris opens his mouth—you’ve already experienced his candor—we can only enlighten and clarify. His father, my brother, is the chief of police.”
Max blinked. Moose walked backward until his legs hit the sofa, and he sat down.
“O’Reilly,” Max breathed, staring into space. “Kevin O’Reilly. He’s the chief of police. Of course he is.”
“This just keeps getting better and better.” Moose’s voice was flat. “If it wasn’t so serious, it’d be downright funny.”
“The chief of police,” Max repeated. “We kidnapped his kids, his brother, and his sister-in-law. The only one we missed was his wife. You think she’ll be offended?”
Thoughtfully Max worked his jaw, then he gave Derek a quick look, and then Connie. “Do you know what his name is?” With a nod of his head, he indicated Moose. “Do you know where he works, lives, anything about him except what he looks like? His nickname doesn’t matter. Petey and I are the only ones who call him that.”
They shook their heads.
Max looked at Moose. “Then you got company, old buddy. Petey and I will be moving in with you, and we’ve gotta do it fast.” His attention returned to Derek. “When is your brother’s flight arriving on Thursday?”
Derek looked at Connie.
“Uh. Late afternoon. Four-thirty, I think.”
“Heck of a lot better than dawn,” Max said, language surprisingly mild. “But we’ve still gotta get a move on. Aunt Connie, I hate to ask you this, but…”
She nodded knowingly and finished his sentence for him. “You want me to wake up the babies and get out of here, ASAP. After holding us against our will for three days, you’re now unceremoniously kicking us out. You don’t do things in half measures, do you?”
Max smiled, and then a real chuckle broke through. Derek gave him a curious look, possibly because it was the first time he’d heard the man laugh.
Holding the uncharacteristic smile, his gaze fixed on Connie, Max said, “If I could have a wish granted, it’d be that one day I invite you both to visit me, you would do so because you want to, and you wouldn’t leave until you were damn good and ready.”
Connie matched his smile. “I’d like that, too,” she said quietly.
Then she caught sight of Derek’s countenance, and she sobered hers. “But somehow I doubt it. I’ll go get the twins.”
* * *
LAX didn’t rank very high on the list of Connie’s favorite places. She twisted in her seat at the airline terminal that was overrun with endless people, bustling activity, and overriding announcements.
“Stop fussing,” Derek hissed.
“I’m not fussing,” she hissed back.
“Then stop fidgeting.”
“I’m not fidgeting!”
Christopher looked idly at them, then went back to his Highlights magazine. Evidently their bickering had become so commonplace their nephew paid little attention. He was busy picking out things that didn’t belong in a picnic scene. The magazine had kept him occupied for what had turned into a long wait. Connie was thinking about borrowing it.
Coherent explanation of the past week was impossible. She wasn’t looking forward to relating it, any of it; hence the fussing and the fidgeting. And she and Derek had been at odds, even more so than usual, since they’d left the farmhouse. They’d managed to agree on two things: neither of them wanted to attempt to muzzle Chris, and they wanted to stick around for the weekend. But that was the extent of their agreeableness.
She caught herself squirming again and forced herself to sit still. She also forced herself to stop pushing her tongue against her bottom teeth. Unfortunately, she didn’t even have a baby to keep her busy. They’d both decided to nap in the van, and neither one had awakened, despite being transferred from car seats into the double stroller and then joining the bustle of the airport.
Her fingers moved to the waistband of her gray slacks and surreptitiously straightened it out. She wished she’d worn something else. These pants had no give, and the white silk blouse was little protection against the air conditioning. She envied Derek his sweatshirt, as ratty as it was.
People had generally steered clear of the group, possibly because of the noise potential of three kids, but a grandmotherly type now took the seat opposite Derek. She glanced idly at him, then gave him a longer, studying look. He’d dressed in old jeans and the well-worn faded blue sweatshirt that Connie coveted, was slouched in his seat, and wore a baseball cap pulled low on his forehead. So far, the simple disguise had worked; no one had looked twice at him. But this grandmother was apparently on the sharp-eyed side.
Fortunately, Andy woke up and stretched, and immediately caught the woman’s attention. She cooed to him, and he talked right back. Connie smiled, answered questions about age and gender, and concentrated on trying not to fidget.
“Almost an hour late,” the woman said, probably catching on to Connie’s preoccupation. “But it’s finally landed. Are you waiting for someone coming in from Hawaii?”
Connie nodded but didn’t elaborate.
Derek said under his breath, “Here we go.”
Connie followed his gaze. A horde of people appeared, seeming to race at them from the International gate. Her nervousness growing, she scanned the faces for familiar ones. Christopher stood up, gaze moving excitedly as he searched the crowd, then he took off at a run.
“Chris,” Derek admonished, then possibly thought better of it because he smiled, stood, and followed his nephew.
The woman frowningly watched Derek instead of the crowd of arrivals. She knew she knew him, and eventually she’d come up with it. Connie hoped they’d be out of there before she did. She had enough to deal with; one thing more and she might go mad.
Kevin caught Chris and swung him up, gaze moving beyond Derek to Connie. He wore a long-sleeved, blue button-down shirt tucked neatly inside belted Levis. It took Kristy longer to find them, probably because she was shorter, but once she eyed Connie and the twins she made a beeline for them. A black, rounded-neck blouse that hugged her bosom and hips topped her white Capri-length pants. She looked like a fashion statement.
She lifted Andy out of the stroller and hugged him close, reverting to baby talk. Andy was beside himself, clearly not able to find a way to let his mother know how happy he was to see her. Crushing one baby to her, Kristy knelt next to the sleeping Abbie, smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead, but Abbie continued to snooze.
With moist eyes, her mouth still next to Andy’s cheek and her hand on Abby’s head, Kristy glanced up at Connie. Connie stared back, wondering at her questioning look, then made a face and helplessly shook her head. She hadn’t realized, until that moment, the implication in the fact that she and Derek were there together.
Over Kristy’s head, Connie noted that the attention of the woman sitting opposite them remained on Derek. She’d caught her lower lip between her teeth and was slowly nodding her head. She almost had it.
“We’d better get out of here,” Connie said.
Kristy glanced behind her, followed the direction of the woman’s gaze, and nodded. “Uh-huh.”
She gave Andy to Kevin and smilingly watched father and baby. Andy’s jabbering spurred up a notch. Excitedly patting his dad’s face, he almost squirmed out of his arms. Kevin pointed to his cheek. Andy put pudgy arms around his neck and planted an open-mouthed, juicy kiss on his parent’s cheek.
His father grinned at his mother. “He’s using his teeth.”
Kristy took Christopher’s hand. She’d given him one hug already and now gave him another one. Connie pushed the double stroller holding the sleeping Abbie, Derek grabbed the two carry-on bags, and the group was on its way.
“So how did you enjoy your vacation, Chris?” his mother asked. “Looks like you got both Auntie Connie and Uncle Dare. You were lucky.”
“Yeah, it was fun. We went fishing and I fell in the water. I ate chips and Abbie ate dirt. We ran out of gas and had to go for a walk, and then we got kidnapped. Annie Connie got to use a gun, but I didn’t get to see her do it. It was the most fun vacation I ever went on, but I miss Petey. I miss him real bad.”
Chapter FifteenHis parents managed a full step each before they froze. They looked blankly at Christopher, each other, Connie, and in unison their gazes rose to Derek, who stood behind her.
Edging her way between them, Connie anchored the stroller with her foot and put an arm around each person. She looked sideways at Kristy, twisted her head and glanced up at Kevin, and in return she got identical expressions of unblinking disbelief. Andy, still in his father’s arms, continued to jabber and pat his dad’s face, vying for his attention. People coming up on them from behind parted as vehicles do around traffic islands and passed on either side. Some showed irritation and others took the jam-up in stride.
“It’s true,” Connie confirmed. “Every bit of it and more.” Her head continued to swivel between them. “But as you can see, we’re unharmed, healthy, and relatively happy. It’s a long story, and we were hoping we could get home before we have to get into it. Trust us. Let’s collect luggage, then we can get ourselves out to the van. Okay?”
Not waiting for concurrence, she pushed the stroller at a fast walk, joining the crowd, and Derek kept pace. Chris and Andy and their parents, the adults slightly glassy-eyed, caught up to them at the luggage carousel.
“Chris said you didn’t report it,” Kevin said to Derek. He put Andy in the stroller and belted him in, but kept his gaze on Derek. “This didn’t really happen. It’s a joke, right?”
“That bag looks familiar,” Connie said.
“Uh-huh.” Derek grabbed it, took several quick steps and grabbed a matching one. “How many?” he asked.
“One mor
e,” Kristy said. She had the look of one trying to add something up that wasn’t adding up. “A small one.”
“This is not a very funny joke,” Kevin said.
“That’s because it’s not a joke,” Derek said. He grabbed the last bag, then exhaled heavily. “Never been through luggage retrieval this fast. Something’s finally going right.”
He looked pointedly, and critically, at his brother. “You going to take a couple of these bags, or do you want to get one of those carts? I can’t manage all five by myself.”
* * *
Though Kevin sat in the comfortable recliner, he didn’t appear comfortable. He stared steadily at his brother. “Why do I have the feeling you’re not telling me the truth?”
Connie sat at one end of the gray and white striped sofa. Derek was at the other end. He’d shed the ratty sweatshirt and looked much more presentable in a red knit polo shirt. As he watched his brother, his eyes narrowed fractionally, as if he were debating with himself if he wanted to be insulted or not.
Kevin amended, “Neither of you is lying. I know that. But I also know you’re not leveling with me. So far, all you’ve done, both of you, is wait for Chris to say something, and then you clarify it. You haven’t volunteered even one sentence on your own.” He paused, with his gaze traveling between them, clearly giving them a chance to speak. When neither did, he went on. “You may not know their last names or where they could be found right now, yet you are withholding information that would lead us to them. Like license plates, for instance? Are you going to tell me you never even thought to check the license plates?”
Connie made a surprised sound that had both men looking at her.
“Well, she didn’t,” Kevin said, then gave his brother a look with a sharp edge to it.
Connie also looked at the man she’d shared a recent kidnapping with. Had he been as brain-dead as she?
Derek just shrugged. “Yeah, I thought about it, when I drove the van back after we got gas in it. But the Mustang and pickup were at an angle that didn’t allow me to see either the front or the back plates. And the next time I got an opportunity to look, it was no longer important that I noted the licenses.”
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