Consciousness returned as Polly felt herself being lifted into the air. Her lashes fluttered open and she found herself face to face with Catcher. “What happened? What are you doing?”
Catcher walked to the bathroom and sat on the wide ledge of the bathtub. He held Polly against him as he leaned over and turned on both hot and cold, held his hand under the faucet, and then adjusted the knobs until he was satisfied. Aware she was now completely naked, and in considerable pain, Polly watched it all with a detached fascination.
He glanced down at her, keeping his eyes on hers. “I’m sorry about this, Polly. I’m really sorry.”
There was too much pain to ask questions. “Just help me into the tub and get out.”
His shook his head. “I’m not leaving you. If you pass out again you might drown.”
Thinking that might be preferable to the agony she currently suffered, she shrugged, which was a mistake of major proportions. Pain streaked across her shoulders, nearly knocking the breath out of her.
“Breath slowly,” Catcher commanded when she gasped. “Slow breaths, until the pain passes.”
He breathed in and out time and again as if he were coaching her in a childbirth class. Focusing on him and making herself match his breathing took her focus off the pain, so she followed his lead until she could relax completely. “I think that was a muscle spasm.”
Catcher nodded. “Just relax and let’s get you in this water. It’s a little hot, but that will help. Once we get you settled, I’ll turn on the jets.”
Polly nodded, willing to do anything not to have her muscles bunch on her again. Forcing herself to remain relaxed, she continued to regulate her breathing until the water and pressure of the jets did their job. “This is better.”
Catcher nodded. “Good.” He rose, kicked off his shoes, then started undoing his pants.
“What are you doing?”
Catcher glanced at her then shucked his jeans to reveal dark blue boxer shorts with the white outline of several eagles. He then unbuttoned his shirt. “I’m gonna take a shower. Two-plus hours in the rain got to me, too.”
Polly knew her jaw was hanging open. “Go use your own bathroom.”
Catcher grinned at her as he continued undressing. “Close your eyes if this bothers you. I’m not leaving you alone.”
Polly closed her eyes, determined to ignore him. The man didn’t have a modest bone in his body, but she did. At least, she had until the pain overtook all common sense. She crossed her arms over her breast in a belated attempt to cover herself, then heard the shower and couldn’t resist a peek. Her eyes flew wide open when she realized that Catcher’s hard body, his fully aroused hard body, faced her as he focused on washing his hair under the spray.
Oh, man, was all she could think. The man had to spend every waking moment he wasn’t with her in the gym working his own muscles. She did her best to focus on every rippling muscle on his body and ignore that he was incredibly well endowed.
There was just no ignoring it.
Polly forced herself to look away and concentrate on the tan sandstone tile patterns on both the floor and tub’s edge. Carefully, she adjusted her position a couple of times to make the jets hit other areas of her body, resolved to squash the voyeuristic desire to take a second peek. It would be wrong to look again, very wrong. In an attempt to distract herself, she grabbed her sponge and creamy bar of soap from the decorative plate on the ledge and soaped up one with the other. She froze when the water from the shower stopped running. Getting busy, she scrubbed her neck and shoulders, down her arms and hands, then lowered the sponge to her chest, only stopping when she became aware that the jets were the only sound in the room. She turned her head and slid a glance to Catcher. He stood just outside of the shower stall, frozen, staring at the sponge against her breasts, the towel around his hips clearly tented by his sex.
Something inside of her exploded, taking her by surprise. It was only moments later, when the shock of it subsided, that she recognized it for what it was. Bemused and more than a little dumbstruck, she smiled at him. “I think we have a problem.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Disappointment and a sense of dread had Polly staring at the filled paper plate before her. After her collapse, she hadn’t been able to do more than coordinate and dictate who did what, where, in the search for the missing child, but they’d had plenty of people willing to do the footwork she couldn’t.
It had killed her to have to call a halt to the search for the toddler but what had been a summer storm turned severe enough to have a National Weather Alert and now she and what was left of the search crew were stranded inside the B&B carefully avoiding looking at each other.
Seven hours had passed since they’d first realized the child was missing. The wooded area, the lake, and the road were searched, but to no avail. They’d expanded the search to include the entire western side of the lake, up and down Lake Road. Doors had been knocked on, boathouses searched, other wooded areas and even the park playground a couple of miles down the road were considered. What no one wanted to consider was that the lake would have to be dredged.
Once they’d all been forced to disband due to the deluge, some going back to their own homes, the remainder filling the B&B, Suzie and Lilly had cooked up mounds of food. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, beans both green and pinto, were served with an array of breads, soups and sandwich options, as well as Suzie’s signature deserts. It looked as if the women had cooked enough to feed half the town.
Leigh Graves had left the crowded social room as soon as everyone involved reported in without success and she realized her son was still missing. Nearly hysterical with fear and grief, she’d fled up the stairs to her room. Catcher immediately sent one of Jim’s boys to the drug store to have a prescription for a sedative filled for her.
Jack Graves was like a caged animal, prowling the perimeter of the house, looking out every window he passed, but Polly was certain he saw nothing but the pouring rain. Soon even that would disappear as darkness approached. She watched him carefully, gauging his actions, feeling a little guilty that she suspected that he could have something to do with his son’s disappearance, but her training had kicked in and the closest family members were always considered possible suspects first. Fortunately for him, he had an alibi. Unless his wife was in on the child’s disappearance, too. According to her, Jack had been naked and locked in her embrace when Caleb went missing.
Which was a picture all too easy to conjure at the moment. But, instead of the Graves couple, the picture she saw was of her and Catcher. Lips locked together. Arms encircling the other. Joined together and riding out a passion she was only now willing to consider. Or even admit.
Polly knew she should feel guilty for erotic thoughts at such a time, but something about being back in a life and death situation had revved up every emotion, sensation, and desire she’d ever had. She wasn’t proud of herself, but she didn’t regret feeling alive again.
“You need to eat.”
Polly looked up at Catcher and shook her head. “Not hungry.” For food. “You?”
Catcher lowered himself to a squat at the side of her wheelchair. After her trek into the woods hours before, her legs hurt too badly to use, and she was relieved she hadn’t allowed Catcher to dispose of the device yet.
“No, but I ate anyway. We all have to be at full strength. When this storm lets up, many of us have to get back out there. It’ll be dark soon. That isn’t good.”
“I know.” She glanced up to follow Jack Graves’ movements. “What do you think about him?”
Catcher turned to follow her gaze. “Graves? Don’t know. Seems like a nice enough guy, but you never know.” An uneasy frown wrinkled his brow. “You suspect him?”
She shrugged, curious about his tone and the fact that he was suddenly staring at the floor. “Waiting. He’s playing his part perfectly if he’s involved.”
Catcher shook his head as if to clear it.
Polly turned back to Catcher, a strange feeling of relief that he looked more normal. “Possible. She didn’t seem too upset until now.”
“May not have believed he’d stay missing.”
“I know. I’m not judging, just watching.” She glanced down at the fried chicken, potatoes, and brown sugar coated baked beans that she hadn’t even seen on the table, then shoved the plate at Catcher. “Get rid of this for me, but don’t let Suzie or Lilly see you doing it. My arteries are choking just looking at it.”
Catcher grinned. “Hey, that is some of the finest cooking I’ve had in years.”
“You’re a man. Men eat anything.”
Looking slightly insulted, he cleared his throat loudly, gaining everyone’s attention. “Suzie, would you mind getting the princess here something a little less southern?”
Heat licked her cheeks as she turned to Suzie, an apology on the tip of her tongue. But Suzie was already taking the plate from Catcher and smiling at her.
“What can I get you? I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I know you don’t eat fried food.”
Wanting to disappear into the weave of her seat, she glared at Catcher before turning to Suzie. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I didn’t want anything. I’m sure it’s delicious.”
“Not a problem, honey. But you need to eat something. You haven’t eaten all day.”
Suzie’s generous nature made her feel like a slug, but it was irritating to have everyone measuring her food intake as if she were an infant. She was beginning to suspect Catcher had Suzie recording and reporting her ingestion on a daily basis. If he could, he’d probably be measuring her excrement, too. The prick.
Pressing the resentment down for a better time, she sent a sweet smile to Suzie. “You know, you’re right.” She turned to the pain in her butt. “Catcher, could you go out to the grocery store and get me a fresh pineapple? Maybe some cherries and melon? I think that would just hit the spot. Then I can resume the search with plenty of strength when this damned storm lets up.”
Catcher glanced at the closest window then back. “Are you crazy? It’s pouring out there. And we need to be able to mobilize immediately as soon as this rain stops. I can’t be off at some grocery store getting fruit.”
Polly knew he was aware the storm thrashing outside had no immediate end in sight. They’d all watched the local evening news and would have to endure the pounding rain until morning. Truth was, she really didn’t want anything. She just wanted to get Catcher away from her.
Ever since meeting Catcher she’d felt an attraction. That attraction was increasing with every breath she took, and she had enough complications in her life. She didn’t need more. The best thing would be to remember that he aggravated her. That he was pushy and irritating and that she was at least ten years older than him. And she was no longer beautiful like him. The son of a bitch! She glared at him, but knew none of it was true. She was crazy about him. And that hurt more than the renewed physical pain she felt. “Well, never mind then.”
Something suspiciously close to revenge played at the sparkle in his squinted eyes, but she chose to ignore it. After all, what could he do? Beat her? Suppressing a grin she turned to Suzie. “Men are such pussies.”
A fraction of a smile touched Suzie’s lips before she whispered, “I have the fruit in the kitchen.”
Polly nodded. “I know.”
A scream followed by thundering footsteps brought Leigh Graves dashing into the room. “There’s a note! A cell phone! He took my baby and wants money!”
Polly watched as Catcher snatched the note from the distraught woman’s hands then held out her own. Of all the people assembled, she was clearly the most capable to take charge. Though he seemed to hesitate, Catcher handed it over, his lips pressed firmly together, his eyes communicating anger. She looked over the ripped out notebook page and read the short demand.
Two days. Five hundred thousand dollars in small, out of sequence bills. She was to procure the cash and wait for further instructions in one of the small cabins up the western side of the mountain that overhung Lake Legend with only her boyfriend to accompany her. Which meant the perp was watching them from a distance, and possibly had been for some time. His mistake about their relationship told her he didn’t know about her physical condition. And beside his name, a name she knew all too well, was a drawing of a knife dripping blood.
Apparently, Karl had found her. She couldn’t worry about how he’d found her, or about how long he’d been watching her right now. Caleb had to be her only concern. Even if she did feel vomit tickling the back of her throat.
She knew little Caleb was as good as dead, if he wasn’t already. Numb, she handed the note back to Catcher and maneuvered herself in front of the hysterical parents. “You said a cell phone. Where is it?”
Caleb’s mother reached into the pocket of her terry-cloth bath-robe and pulled it out to hand to Polly. “Please, get him back. We don’t have that kind of money. If we had it, I’d give it to him, but we don’t. Please. Get him back.”
“I will.” Polly held up her hand in a halt position, refusing to touch the phone. She turned to Catcher. “Get plastic bags and bag the phone, the note, too. We need to get them to forensics for prints.” She didn’t add that it was probably a waste of time since Leigh Graves had handled both, and her and Catcher the note as well, but they might find a trace of Karl Wall’s prints if they caught a break.
Exhausted, discouraged, she looked at all those still assembled. “We all need to get some rest. There isn’t anything more we can do tonight.” She watched as Caleb’s parents moved away together, his mother’s head resting on his father’s shoulder as they left the room.
Polly spun her motorized chair and pushed her toggle switch to its highest speed as she sought the solitude of her room. This was her fault. Another child would die a horrible, painful death—or worse, which she couldn’t allow herself to think about or she would go back to that place of horror that had broken her emotionally in the first place. Wall was foul. The dirtiest type of human—if you could call him one—that walked the earth.
“Polly?”
She glanced around at the softly spoken Catcher as tears burned her eyes. “He cut his own children. Sexually assaulted them. Sodomized then dismembered them. Just what do you think Caleb is going through right now?”
Catcher’s tanned face paled. “I didn’t know that.”
Polly shrugged. “You wouldn’t. You were sent to take care of me. Not them.”
Indecision seemed to cloud his eyes before he looked down at his hands. “I’ll get someone else to handle this.” He glanced back at her. “You aren’t up to it.”
Polly shook her head. “He wants me. This is all about me. If there is even a small chance Caleb makes it, I have to be the one to take the money.”
Catcher stalked around the room. “I can’t do this. What the hell are they thinking!” He glanced over to Polly and saw her look of confusion. He shook his head. “Uh, we’ll use a decoy. Someone who looks like you. He won’t know the difference.”
Polly frowned at him. “We, I, can’t take that risk. Caleb is out there and he’s close. If we act fast, he might have a chance.”
Catcher’s bewildered expression and defeated slump made her nervous. “What aren’t you telling me?”
A deep breath and squared shoulders pulled Catcher back to his usual height. “Nothing. I’ll make the necessary calls. Get a good night’s sleep.”
She nodded, not even curious at his odd behavior. After all, the man they were about to hunt had completely knocked her life out from under her, and she had come face to face with the worst of the worst time and again. Someone as sheltered as Catcher had no idea how impossible a good night’s sleep would be this night, nor the many nights to come.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Catcher couldn’t sleep, though lately, that wasn’t anything new. But the reason, this stormy night, was entirely d
ifferent than usual, which was why he was wearing a hole through the wood flooring as he paced back and forth in his tiny room.
He should have known better. He should have found out more about what had cracked that incredible woman before allowing her to become a part of this. Now he was in up to his ears and there was no way out. Catcher scrubbed his fingers against his scalp purely out of frustration.
Already the Agency had a team heading straight for Legend to set up a full-fledged hostage negotiation station. He’d already told his boss it was a mistake. A miscalculation on his part and completely unnecessary. But to no avail. Several men and women would descend on this quiet little town with the intention of questioning, poking around, tapping phones, and setting up eavesdropping devices. And it was all for show.
And it was on his head.
His scheme. His miscalculation. And Polly would suffer for it.
The duly authorized agents of the government would make camp, most likely in the Legend’s Landing Bed and Breakfast where he and Polly were already staying. Though they’d been more than accommodating for Polly and him, he wasn’t too certain Brad and Suzie Matthews would appreciate being pushed out of their home. But even that was out of his hands now. Regret ate at him like a rabid dog.
As soon as he and Polly took up residence in the newly renovated cabin the Matthews rented out up on the mountain, the agency would take over completely. He had no idea what their plan was, only that he’d been assured Polly wouldn’t be hurt.
How had it come to this? How could he have made such a major mistake? How could he continue to do his job, knowing he would only hurt her more?
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