Trumped Up Charges

by Joanna Wayne

  Once again, he wondered where in the hell the girls’ father was and why he hadn’t come up again in tonight’s discussion with the detective. Whatever Hadley had told the detective about him this morning must have been enough to take him completely out of the picture.

  “Can you just please let it go for now, Mother? There’s something far more urgent we need to talk about. I’m switching to speaker now so that Adam can join in the conversation.”

  “I have nothing to say to Adam.”

  Janice O’Sullivan’s voice came through loud and clear.

  “Then just listen for a minute. Based on what we know now, whoever took the girls had to have easy access to the house,” Hadley said. “Both day and night.”

  “You know I would have changed every lock on every door and window if I’d any idea the girls were in danger.”

  “I know and I’m not blaming you for a second.”

  “The locks were all changed when we did the remodeling,” Janice said. “That’s only been a few months ago, I’m certain there aren’t a lot of working keys floating around.”

  “You didn’t mention that earlier.”

  “I just remembered it. I think it’s the pain meds. They keep me groggy. I told them I’m leaving the hospital in the morning. You need me and they can’t keep me against my will.”

  “I need you to do what the doctor tells you to do, but I’m glad you remembered changing the locks. That narrows the suspect list down ever further.”

  “It doesn’t matter who took them,” Janice said. “When he shows up to collect the ransom, the police can arrest him. I saw them do that on television just the other night.”

  “The police are considering all options,” Hadley assured her. “Detective Lane brought up the name of Quinton Larson.”

  “Matilda’s brother?”

  “Yes. Did you know he has a criminal record?”

  “I know Matilda was always bailing him out of trouble, but I can’t see what that has to do with anything now.”

  “It’s possible that he got hold of Matilda’s keys and had an extra set made.”

  “Not any time lately.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Quinton Larson has been dead for at least five years.”

  “You must have him confused with someone else.”

  “Not hardly. I paid for his funeral.”

  Hadley dropped to a kitchen chair as if that bombshell had knocked her legs out from under her.

  Adam sat down beside her. “And you’re sure the funeral was for Quinton and not one of Matilda’s other brothers?” he questioned.

  “Matilda didn’t have any other brothers. It was just her and Quinton. That’s why she felt responsible for him after her mother died. Why all of this interest in Quinton?”

  “Detective Lane checked him out as a person of interest,” Hadley said. “According to him, Quinton Larson is not only alive but out of jail on probation.”

  “The detective is confused. There may be a Quinton Larson out on probation, but it’s not Matilda’s brother,” Janice insisted. “I’ll call Matilda right now to prove it.”

  “Good idea, Mom. Call me back after you’ve talked to her.”

  Adam fell to his own thoughts, barely listening to the rest of the conversation. If Detective Lane did have the right man, Matilda’s brother was a perverted, violent son of a bitch who he wouldn’t trust with a rabid wolf much less two young, innocent girls.

  And had Matilda Bastion been half as trustworthy as Hadley and her mother believed, she’d have never conned Janice into paying for a funeral for a man who was not only breathing but out beating up women.

  Adam cracked a few eggs and beat them with a vengeance. If Detective Lane didn’t find Quinton by morning, he would. Or at least he’d give it his best shot—inside and outside the law.

  No way he could sit back and do nothing while Hadley’s daughters were in the hands of a man devoid of morals. A madman playing games with Hadley’s mind with his taunting.

  Ransom note or not, Adam didn’t trust him to keep the girls safe or alive.

  * * *

  MARY NELL FINGERED the wiry hair of the doll that Lila held clutched to her chest. “Look how cute they look all snuggled up in the bed together and sound asleep,” she whispered.

  “Five million dollars worth of cute.”

  She moved away from the bed. “When do we get the money? I can’t wait to be rich.”

  “As soon as I get all the details for getting out of the country worked out.”

  “Maybe we could go to Paris to live. I always wanted to see that Eiffel Tower.”

  “Forget that. I’m not going to no friggin’ France. Besides we’d lose too much money when we exchanged our good old American dollars for euros.”

  “I could go topless on one of them Riviera beaches.”

  “You can go topless anywhere we end up, baby, anytime I say.”

  “I wish you’d stay with me and the girls tonight.”

  “You know I can’t do that. I gotta be present and accounted for when the cops come calling.”

  “So what do I do if the cops show up here?”

  “They won’t. But don’t get too attached to those red-headed brats. They get me a ticket to freedom or they get to fly around with the angels. They ain’t staying with me.”

  “You mean with us?”

  “Sure, baby. You know I wouldn’t leave you stranded.”

  He pinched her nipples hard, ran his tongue down her throat and left. It seemed she was taking all the risks. But it was better this way. She’d take care of the girls—no matter what.

  Five million dollars. That would take them anywhere they wanted to go. The good life was practically theirs.

  * * *

  WEARINESS NOT ONLY weighed heavy on Shelton Lane’s shoulders, it seemed to settle in his bones. Worse, a dull ache was attacking at the base of his skull.

  It was always like this when a child went missing. The pressure never let up. He’d seen too many of the cases turn out bad. That kind of thing stayed with a cop all his life.

  Sometimes you knew going in that the chance of a happy ending was slim to none. Most time you didn’t. But you always knew time was of the essence.

  This case really had him puzzled. Hadley O’Sullivan had been on the edge of complete hysteria when he’d arrived this morning. He hadn’t figured that for an act. But the evidence all pointed to the fact that this was some kind of inside job, especially the ransom note sent even before the abduction took place.

  Looked to him like it was sent just to throw off the cops and make them think the crime was about money. He wouldn’t be shocked if that was the last message they received from the kidnapper.

  Which left Hadley O’Sullivan as the one with the most likely motive and plenty of opportunity and means. If the girls were out of the picture, she could go on with her life unencumbered with lover Adam Dalton.

  Shelton definitely didn’t buy the friend story. All he had to do was look at them together to know that there was more going on between them than that. The guy might be a tough-as-nails former marine, but he had his heart on his sleeve where Hadley was concerned.

  Shelton turned onto the I-20 entrance ramp. He’d love to go home and crash in his bed. But even if he fell asleep, it wouldn’t stick more than a few minutes. The first twenty-four hours of an abduction case were the most urgent. This one was going on sixteen hours now.

  When he reached the station, he grabbed a cup of black coffee and went straight to his desk. He shuffled through his messages. The one he wanted was about halfway through the pile, attached to a research file he’d ordered on Hadley O’Sullivan.

  The note at the top said it all.

  Hadley O’Sullivan had been caught in a blatant lie.

  Chapter Five

  Adam woke abruptly, his senses keen, his instincts sharp. That had been the means of survival in Afghanistan when he’d learned to sleep in short spurts and wake up ready
to spring into action.

  Back then his body was up to the task. The bullets and the burns he’d suffered when their patrol had been ambushed put a quietus on that. Even after two years of rehab, he didn’t have the raw strength or the agility he’d once taken for granted.

  He stretched and sat up on the couch slowly, trying to overcome the stiffness that had settled into his muscles and joints.

  Oddly thoughts of R.J. crept into his mind. Yesterday morning at this time he’d been dreading his trip to the Dry Gulch Ranch for the reading of the will.

  But R.J. wasn’t dead. He’d decided years too late he wanted a chance at being a father. But where was Lila and Lacy’s father. Had he opted out of their lives? Or was he somehow involved in the abduction? And why was Hadley so determined to keep everything about him a secret?

  Aches persisted as Adam stood and went in search of Hadley. He found her lying sideways across one of the twin beds in the room where she’d put her daughters to bed two nights ago.

  Like him, she was fully clothed except for the sandals she’d kicked out of and left next to the bed. Even in sleep, she looked tormented. He doubted she’d slept an hour, though the first light of dawn crept into the room through the slatted blinds.

  She’d paced most of the night, jumped every time her phone rang and then ignored the call when a friend’s name popped up on the caller ID screen.

  Moving as silently as he could, Adam grabbed the lightweight quilt from the other bed and spread it across her bare feet and legs.

  He started to walk away, but poignant images from their past stole into his mind. Nights when he’d slept beside her, their bodies entangled, still slick from their lovemaking. Who’d have ever thought they would end up like this? Together but yet worlds apart.

  And he would never make love to her again. That might be the cruelest trick the war had played on him. Doctors had given him back his life but not his manhood.

  One day, he might be able to examine the past with a degree of objectivity. But not now. The stakes were too high to get bogged down in what-ifs.

  Getting Lila and Lacy back safely wasn’t only the top priority. It had to be the only priority.

  Tiptoeing from the room, Adam walked to the kitchen, emptied the stale coffee and old grounds and started a fresh pot. The sound of hammering broke the early-morning silence.

  Raking his fingers through his thick, mussed hair, he went toward the front lawn to check it out. He spotted two middle-aged women in jogging suits about halfway between him and the curb. One steadied a yard sign. The other pounded the stake that would anchor it in place.

  “What’s with the racket? It’s barely dawn.”

  The woman kept hammering.

  “This is private property,” he called as he started walking in their direction. His socks became wet with dew as he hurried across the manicured grass.

  The woman with the hammer waved it at him threateningly. “We don’t want murdering mothers in our neighborhood.” She stood back so that he got a good look at the sign.

  CHILD KILLER

  The words were printed in bright red spray paint that dripped from the letters like fresh blood.

  Fury gripped him, bunching his muscles, knotting in his stomach. He rushed toward them and yanked the sign from the ground.

  “Hadley O’Sullivan is going through hell right now. She hasn’t slept, hasn’t eaten, can barely breathe she’s so worried about her daughters.”

  “Not according to what I read in the paper.”

  “Get off this property now.”

  One woman backed away a few steps. The other held on to the hammer and stood her ground. “If you’re here with her, you’re probably as guilty as she is. You’ll both burn in hell.”

  There was no reasoning with her and Adam was in no mood to bother. “Set foot on this property again and I’ll have you and any other lunatics you bring with you arrested. Is that clear?”

  “Don’t threaten me.”

  “If you’re not gone in five seconds, the threat becomes reality. One. Two.”

  Both women retreated to the curb. A passing car slowed to a crawl. Someone in the passenger side rolled down the window and stuck out a camera with a large telephoto lens. Adam resisted the urge to give a fitting one-finger salute.

  The two women finally climbed into their station wagon and drove away, taking their sign and hammer with them. Adam picked up the morning paper and plodded back inside. Hopefully he’d seen the end of the two misinformed vigilantes, but he wouldn’t count on it. Even misdirected rage had a way of inciting more hatred.

  He went to the kitchen, poured a cup of coffee and sat down to skim the morning’s headlines. His eyes zeroed in on an article at the bottom of the first page.

  No Sign of Break-in at Home of Missing Twin Girls

  * * *

  THAT EXPLAINED THE SIGN.

  He read the article. While it didn’t directly label Hadley a suspect in the twins’ disappearance, it definitely leaned in that direction.

  “Is that this morning’s paper?”

  He looked up. Hadley was standing in the doorway, her hair disheveled, her slacks and cotton shirt wrinkled and in disarray. There were dark shadows beneath her red-rimmed green eyes.

  “Today’s Dallas Morning News,” he said, wishing he could shield her from the disturbing article, but knowing it wouldn’t help. If he didn’t show it to her, she’d hear about it from someone else.

  “Sit down and I’ll get you some coffee,” he offered.

  “Thanks. Did you get any sleep at all last night?”

  “Very little. The same as you.”

  “I’ll sleep when the girls are home again.”

  Adam sat a mug of coffee next to her elbow. “Drink this and then I’ll make you some breakfast.”

  “Didn’t I just force down a meal?”

  “More like a couple of bites and that was hours ago.”

  She took a few sips of coffee and then slid the newspaper over so that she could see the front page. Her expression grew pained as she read. As exhausted as she was, she understood that the bizarre facts surrounding the case were making her look guilty. At least now, she might consider getting an attorney.

  Adam doubted if even that would be enough if this dragged on much longer.

  If he were going to make any kind of stab at being a hero, it was time to act.

  * * *

  HADLEY DIDN’T NOTICE the hot coffee sloshing from her mug until Adam rushed forward with a paper towel to dab it from her arm.

  “Did you get burned?”

  “If I did, I’m too irritated to notice. This article deliberately makes it look as if what actually happened is too preposterous to be true.”

  “Ignore it. You know reporters like to spice up a story.”

  “Detective Lane is not a reporter and he also insinuated last night that I’m somehow implicated in everything that’s happened.”

  “I don’t think he believes you’re guilty for a minute. Anyone can see how upset you are. He’s just doing his job and that means investigating this from every angle.”

  “It’s his job to get my daughters back. They know all about me and Mom and even the housekeeper. They can’t even locate Quinton Larson, and this man who hasn’t been around this house in over a decade seems to be the only lead they have.”

  “At least the only lead they’ve shared with us. They have more,” Adam reminded her. “They may have Quinton in custody by now.”

  “If the Quinton they’re talking about is even Matilda’s supposedly dead brother. And they don’t have Lacy and Lila or we would have heard. We don’t even have a plan for what to do about the ransom. I can’t snap my fingers and have five million dollars drop from the sky.”

  “All good points,” Adam agreed. “So maybe we should look at this from a new angle.”

  “Why not? Do you have one?”

  “I have a good marine buddy whose brother is one of the top hostage negotiators in the world.�
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  “This isn’t a hostage situation.”

  “It’s not your typical hostage situation, but the kidnapper is holding the girls hostage. Besides, Chuck Casey’s brother was involved in at least one famous child abduction case.”

  “What case was that?”

  “Three years ago the son of a Houston shipping tycoon was taken from his private school following an after-school football game.”

  “I remember that case,” Hadley said. “Wasn’t it a former chauffeur who abducted the kid?”

  “Yes, and according to Chuck, his brother Fred is the main reason the family had a happy ending. I’m not sure Fred is available or even in the country, but we can ask.”

  “Call your friend,” she said. This might be exactly the break they needed. Except... “Let Fred Casey know up front that I don’t want any risky heroics. I won’t take chances with my daughters’ lives.”

  “I’ll make sure he knows that.”

  “Perfect. I’ll get showered and dressed while you try to get in touch with him. I need to check on Mother in person and find out if she ever got in touch with Matilda.”

  The last time Hadley had checked in with her mother and her private nurse had been at ten after nine last night. Her mother had left messages for Matilda to call her back but hadn’t heard from her. The nurse had suggested Hadley not call again until morning. She had just given Janice an injection to control the pain and felt her patient needed to rest undisturbed.

  Adam dropped a couple of pieces of wheat bread into the toaster. “It could be that Matilda was dodging Janice’s calls.”

  “I find that difficult to believe. But if she is, I’ll pay a call to Matilda and confront her about Quinton myself.”

  “Mind if I tag along?”

  Oddly, she’d just assumed that he would. In a matter of hours, she’d let him back in her life—an act that would have been unthinkable before.

  Desperation had changed all the rules.

  “You can come, but don’t expect a warm greeting or any thanks from Mother.”

  “I won’t. That same warning might go for you when you call on Matilda.”

  Hadley sincerely hoped he was wrong about that. But if Quinton wasn’t dead, and Matilda had conned Janice out of money for his funeral, then Hadley didn’t know Matilda at all.