The Kidnapping of Kenzie Thorn

by Liz Johnson

  Sadly, he knew the truth. His phone call to Nate before they left the hotel had clarified just what he feared. Mac was involved in the conspiracy surrounding Kenzie’s kidnapping.

  Myles was good at analyzing clues, and he knew without a doubt that all of them pointed toward Mac’s involvement in the case. It was all about the prison’s education budget, which, according to the newspapers, was bulging. But Myles knew the governor had been in that classroom. Kenzie had confirmed it. There was no money there, and her grandfather knew it, despite the budget he had approved. And Myles was sure the missing money was lining the pockets of Mac and Ryker. Afterall, Mac’s campaign fund was surprisingly healthy, if the number of ads he was running was any indication. He wasn’t independently wealthy like Claudia Suarez. The money had to be coming from somewhere.

  And even though Kenzie had been reading the same newspapers and collecting the same evidence, she’d seen only Ryker’s involvement because she didn’t want to see Mac’s hand in it all. She had an understandable blind spot for her grandfather.

  Nate, on the other hand, had no problem telling Myles that his hunch was correct. The tip that had originally sent Myles to prison to protect Kenzie had also included information on a connection between Mac and extra income. Now they just needed the hard evidence. Wire taps and financial records.

  Myles had been happy to prove to Kenzie that he was an FBI agent. But he knew he wouldn’t relish revealing whatever proof he found about Mac’s involvement.

  Without thinking about the action, he reached his hand up and cupped her cheek, letting his thumb brush her earlobe. She sighed and leaned a little bit closer, resting her other cheek against his shoulder.

  “Whaa…” she mumbled.

  “Hm?”

  “What are you thinking?” she asked, forced to raise her voice over the racket of the rambling bus.

  That I never should have let you talk me into this. That this is lunacy. That you’re missing a big part of this picture. That we’re moving prematurely. That all evidence points to Mac.

  She elbowed him in the bicep. “Seriously. What are you thinking about?”

  He quickly confirmed that the surrounding seats remained empty. “Just wondering how this all started. How did you end up teaching at the prison?”

  She kept her face forward, but he thought he could see the corner of her mouth raised in a half smile. “I always wanted to be a teacher. It just seemed like the best profession in the world to a grade schooler who had always loved her own teachers. And by the time I got to high school, I knew it was the only thing that would make me happy.

  “I also love to travel, so I figured that with a degree I could move anywhere and always be able to find a job.”

  “Did you ever think about teaching at any of those international programs where you teach English?”

  “Not just thought about it. I went for it.”

  Rightfully impressed, Myles nodded his approval. “Where did you go?”

  “Right after graduation, I moved to Belgium and taught English at a Bible institute there. Mac and Nana were very supportive. When I first started thinking about it during my last year in college, I was afraid that they’d try to hold me back, try to keep me close. They worried a lot about me, especially since my parents’ death.

  “But when I told them I wanted to go, they hugged me close and told me how excited they were that I was going to experience more of the world. They came to visit several times. And that’s where I learned how much I loved teaching adults. The students there are so regimented, they work so hard. It was a pleasure being in class every day.

  “Of course, I wasn’t a full-fledged professor, just an assistant professor. But it was a wonderful time in my life.”

  “Is that when you got so stubborn?” He grunted when she elbowed him in the stomach. “If it was so great, why did you come home?”

  She heaved a heavyhearted sigh. “I missed my family. I was there for over two years, but toward the end, I just knew that God was asking me to come back. I had made some good friends and was dating a great guy…”

  Myles felt like she had elbowed him in the gut again. Dating a great guy? Did she still care for him?

  “But then Mac got sick.”

  “Mac is sick?” The man always seemed healthy as a horse and looked better than most men twenty years younger.

  “We kept it out of the press. Nana and Mac didn’t want it to leak out, afraid it would undermine Mac’s position as governor and hurt his next campaign. But he had to have a pacemaker put in when his heart started beating irregularly.

  “And after that it was just too hard to be out of the country. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be close to him, to see him and Nana more often, to let them know how much I love them. There will be more trips abroad, but I only have one set of grandparents.”

  Her cheek rubbed against his shoulder, and she wiped her eyes with her fingers.

  “That must have been rough. I’m sorry.”

  Sniffling softly, she coughed and continued. “It was a hard time. I hate the thought of not having either Mac or Nana around. I didn’t realize how much I relied on them to be around, until there was a possibility that I might lose one of them.”

  “So then, why the prison?”

  “Oh, everyone thought I’d take a job in Salem near Mac and Nana, teaching kindergarten or something like it. But I was hooked on adults after Belgium, so I taught at an adult literacy program for a year. That was the year that the education reform bill passed.”

  “I can just imagine that Mac was thrilled when you said you wanted to tackle that project.” He did not even try to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

  “Oh, yes. He practically locked me in the cellar when I mentioned it for the first time.” There was a smile in her voice at the memory. “I was surprised when Nana warmed up to the idea long before Mac. But she helped me convince him that I was the best person for the job. He still hates that I work…well, worked there.

  “But as soon as I saw how much the inmates needed something to strive for, something to keep them motivated, I was hooked. I know God opened the door for me to teach at the prison, and I’m really glad that He did. There’s something really fulfilling about knowing that you’re giving some hope to hopeless lives.

  “I wasn’t free to talk about Jesus in the classroom, but it never stopped me from praying for my students and encouraging them to meet with the chaplain.”

  “Did you ever pray for me?”

  A pretty crimson blush settled onto the only inch of skin on her neck that he could see. “Once or twice, probably.”

  Not for the first time, he looked at her tiny frame and wondered how she had managed for two years to motivate the hardened felons in the prison. He had lived among them for weeks, and his skin still crawled with the memories of their hatred and bitterness. How had she prayed for these men, cared for them even, when some of them hated her just for being part of the establishment?

  “It sounds so cheesy,” she sighed, “but God really did give me a love for these men. Most of them just needed to know that someone cared, really cared for them. I hoped that they recognized how much I cared for them by how hard I worked to see them succeed…do you think they did?”

  He had only been in her class a couple of days, but Myles was certain she made a difference. “I’m sure that God used you in ways that you won’t ever even know.”

  “Thanks. I needed to hear that today.”

  They let silence reign for several moments, and soon Kenzie’s breathing slowed to an even, steady rhythm, her head tilted back against the gray fabric of the seat and her cheek still brushing his shoulder.

  An hour later, as the bus rolled through the outskirts of Salem, his heart still felt twice its normal size. Knowing that she needed him, even if only for words of affirmation, warmed him to the core, gave him strength and a purpose stronger than any assignment ever had. He wanted to hear that she needed him every day. Maybe every day for the r
est of his life.

  But that meant marriage. Lifetime commitment. The whole deal.

  A grin cracked his face.

  He’d had much worse ideas than spending his life with Sweet and Spicy Kenzie. With no idea how she had finagled her way so deep into his heart in only eight days, he forced himself to admit that if God placed him on earth to love and serve Kenzie Thorn, that was way more than just okay.

  But before he could really consider the life he imagined with her, he had to tell her the truth about Mac.

  FIFTEEN

  “Kenzie, are you sure you want to do this? Go back into the prison? Go back to your family now?” Myles stabbed his fingers through his hair and pinched his lips together.

  “I’m sure. This is the only way to get the proof that we need that JB is behind this entire thing.” Her hands were steady, her eyes unwavering.

  Myles growled at nothing in particular and glared at a spot on the wall of the bus depot just over her left shoulder. Passengers from the Greyhound that had just exited continued filing by them. “But what if this goes higher than JB? What if…well, what if there are more people involved?” He ignored the fist in his stomach that told him just how bad things were about to get. She would hate him when he explained that this whole thing went so much deeper—or in this case higher—than Kenzie thought. But the stone face of the woman before him reminded him that she would not be easily persuaded to see the reality. If he was going to protect her from Mac, she’d have to know the truth. He had held off talking with her, but it was too late to wait any longer.

  She grabbed his hand and held it tightly between both of hers. “Myles, who do you think is involved in this? How could it go any higher than JB? We both agreed that his motive for this must be money. Who else could profit from skimming funds from the education reform budget?”

  Myles shrugged. When had he become a coward? A real man would stand up and tell her the truth, tell her that the man she loved more than any other in this world had offered her up as a sacrifice, just to pad his wallet and win an election.

  She squeezed his fingers again and looked pleadingly into his eyes. The gray storm there sucked the breath from his lungs and he gasped. She suspected something was amiss—she had to. But the truth could kill her.

  “Kenz, I don’t—I don’t want to be the one to tell you this.” He cupped her sun-warmed cheek with his free hand and gazed into her face. This might be his last chance to ever kiss her, so he bent low and pressed his lips firmly to hers. He tried to convey every uncertainty and each certainty through the current that passed between them.

  She was pliant in his arms, but he knew that was about to change. He hated this thought so much that he couldn’t even enjoy the taste of grape jelly from their breakfast on her lips and the smell of earth and forest clinging to her hair.

  Kenzie pulled away and took two deep breaths, her eyes never leaving his. “Tell me what’s going on. Tell me now.”

  “Mac…”

  “What about Mac? He’s going to understand everything. He’ll be on our side.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t think he’ll understand,” she said.

  A muscle in Myles’s jaw jumped. “I don’t think he’ll be on our side.”

  “What?” Kenzie physically jumped back, putting at least two feet of space between them.

  Myles grabbed at her hand and clung to it, willing her to understand the words that he was trying to formulate. He tried to pray for the right words, but his thoughts refused to form coherently.

  “Kenz, JB is working with Mac. He always has been. Mac is in on the whole thing. I’d bet anything that he knew about JB’s plans to have you k—”

  “No!”

  “Don’t you see? I misunderstood Ryker on the phone. I thought he was saying that Mac didn’t expect you to be alive because he expected the perpetrators to get rid of you. But he was saying that Mac expected you to die, that he knew the plan was to take you out of the picture.”

  “Stop it! Stop it! How dare you say such awful things about Mac!” Tears sprang to her eyes and she tugged violently on her hand, trying to remove it from his grasp. Myles looked around at the other bus passengers waiting on benches just outside the small terminal. Many glared reproachfully at him as he clung to her hand. They were going to have to finish this fast, or the police would be called.

  “I’m not making this up. This is true. With your death he gets a boost in the governor’s race, which we both know he needs. Claudia Suarez isn’t making things up or playing games with those TV spots she’s campaigning with. Mac needs the pity votes. And with you gone there’s no one to immediately look too closely at the money that should be going into the education reform, money that he approved, and that he has to know isn’t reaching your classroom.”

  “But there are auditors and people like that who check the budget. They’d notice.”

  “They should have already noticed. It’s been in the budget for two years. Those auditors are hired by the governor’s office.”

  “Well, maybe they just missed it.”

  Myles groaned and wanted to jab his fingers into his hair and pull it out by the roots. But then he would have to let go of Kenzie’s hand, and he couldn’t afford to lose their only connection.

  “The auditors haven’t found it yet because they’re being convinced not to find it. If I had to guess, I’d say that Mac is paying them off with some of the money skimmed from the budget, and still making out quite well.”

  “There! You just said you’re guessing! You don’t really know what’s going on.”

  “Kenzie! Listen to me!” He raised his voice more than he planned, and took a few breaths to calm down. “Kenz, I’m not guessing here. I’m sure that Mac is part of this. All of it. Everything. Including the plot to have you kidnapped and killed. My supervisor confirmed it.”

  Kenzie’s lip quivered momentarily, and Myles let hope bubble inside him. Hope that she would see his point. Hope that she would be persuaded by the truth. Hope that he hadn’t lost her heart.

  Seeing his opening, he dove deeper. “Haven’t you wondered why we haven’t been more ardently pursued? We’ve barely been noticed by the cops, even when they found the car. We only saw the one article about you in the paper. Why hasn’t Mac been tracking us? Don’t you think this has been a little too easy?”

  But like a child wielding a pin at a balloon, she popped his hope. “You’re wrong. How could you even try to pin this on Mac? Maybe you’re just jealous of how much he loves me and how much he means to me. Whatever your reason, it doesn’t matter.” Her eyes were cold as ice, and she yanked her hand hard, dislodging it from his grip.

  “Is it so hard for you to imagine that he could fail you, that he might not be as perfect as you always thought?” Myles pleaded.

  She flipped her red hair over her shoulder and gave him a glare that would freeze boiling water. “I hate you for trying to pin this on Mac just because you’re jealous of my relationship with him. I will never forgive you for this.”

  Catching her hand one last time, he pulled her close enough to slip a tiny sheet of paper into her pocket, giving her a way to reach him if she ever changed her mind. He had no real hope. Just ridiculous optimism. A shimmering pool materialized in the corner of her eye just before she turned around and took off down the sidewalk at a dead run.

  He sank to the curb, his legs no longer able to hold him. Forgetting every member of their audience, he let tears freely fall into his open hands.

  Every moment until Kenzie laid her eyes on their precious faces felt like a whirlwind that would never stop. Running until her side ached so much that she could not go on. Flagging down a passing policeman. The ride to the station. Relentless questions.

  “How did you escape?”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

  “How should we get in contact with your family?”

  “Where is the man who d
id this?”

  She could only offer terse answers to the kind-faced policewoman squatting in front of her in the lobby of the station. And oh, how she wanted to answer, to scream the answer to the last question. How dare Myles end it all like this? How could he take everything that they had been through together and throw it away because of his jealousy?

  He’s at the bus depot! He’s just a few miles away! He’ll get away! He’ll go back to his life as an FBI agent. He’ll forget about me and everything we shared.

  In that moment of realization, her heart shut down and with it her mind. She could answer no more questions, could only hug her arms tightly around her middle. But even the soft cotton of the plaid man’s shirt she wore reminded her of Myles, of the look of pride on his face when he emerged from the secondhand store with her new wardrobe. Of the way he teasingly tossed her the baseball cap still on her head.

  Her stomach ached, and for a moment she thought she would be sick right there on the cold tile floor of the police station, with five officers surrounding her. Head spinning, she excused herself and rushed toward the door marked Women.

  Inside the first stall she leaned her forehead against the cool, green metal of the partition, closed her eyes and took several long breaths.

  “This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening,” she chanted. “Myles isn’t crazy. He didn’t just tell me that my grandpa tried to have me killed. He didn’t just let me run off alone. It’s a dream. This is all just a terrible, terrible dream.” As if speaking aloud would somehow make it true, she repeated the last sentence over and over.

  It wasn’t until she recognized that her shoulders were shaking violently that she realized that tears streamed down her face and sobs interrupted her breathing.

  “Oh, God, I can’t make any sense out of any of this! Why is this happening to me?” she wailed, anger, frustration and pain erupting from deep in her chest.