Not This Time

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Not This Time Page 7

by Vicki Hinze


  “You are special.”

  “He thought I was.” And he’d thought so at the time she most needed to feel special and didn’t even know it. After Max’s grand exodus.

  A phone rang in the background. “Gotta go, gorgeous. Info coming in I need now. I’ll call again as soon as I can.”

  “Just one thing, Joe.”

  “What?”

  “I want to be clear. You didn’t call just because I asked you to. You would have called me anyway?”

  “Beth, you were attacked. I just told you I’m crazy about you. Whether or not you want to believe it, I needed to know you were okay. Worry is part of the crazy-about-you package.”

  She smiled, her emotions in riot. “In that case, and because you trusted me, I’m going to take you at your word, so if you’re joking around, knock it off.”

  “I’m not joking around.”

  A little thrill raced through her. “It’ll last maybe a week.”

  “Live dangerously and let’s find out. Gonna risk it?”

  She laughed. “You break my heart, Joseph, and I’ll have to sic Nora on you—and Peggy Crane.” The Crossroads director was as tenacious as Nora.

  “Woman, you’re a piece of work. I tell you you’re gorgeous, I’m crazy about you, and you threaten to unleash Rambo and Cupid on me. Sha, you need to ease up and just be. You’ll get used to me.”

  That was the problem. She could get used to him so easily, and then he’d recover from this insane but temporary interest in her and return to his usual kind of woman. “I am used to you.” But she hadn’t yet answered how much he was like Max. “I’m okay short-term. But long-term, you need someone more your type.”

  “I have a type?” His voice took on a hard edge. “Is this your way of saying I’m not good enough for you, Beth?”

  Shame. “Don’t be absurd. You’re amazing.”

  “So my type isn’t someone like you. It’s … what?”

  “Your phone is ringing again.”

  “I asked you a question.”

  “Some gorgeous superwoman.”

  “If I weren’t relieved, I think I’d be insulted, but forget about that. Honey, the truth is, I have to stretch to touch the soles of your feet.”

  Tears stung her eyes. Was that genuine? Sincere? “Now you’re baiting me.”

  “I bait for fish. I never play games with anyone’s heart. It’s bad form.” He paused while the phone rang yet again. “Bad timing, but I really have to go now. Be careful—and don’t tell anyone about this phone. Not even Sara.”

  “Why?”

  “Trust me.”

  “Me? Trust a woman magnet?”

  “You’re clearly immune to the magnet. Trust the man.”

  Oh, but she wasn’t immune. She so wasn’t immune. “Okay, but I wouldn’t mind if you finished up fast and got your body down here.”

  “Are you coming unglued?”

  “I don’t come unglued.” Why had she said that? She’d lost her mind and her dignity.

  “ ’Course not. You miss me, eh?”

  “Like a sore tooth. The truth is, I haven’t gotten a decent cup of coffee at Ruby’s since you were here. The waitress doesn’t fawn over me.” She’d loved their conversations at Ruby’s. He was a wonderful listener and told fascinating stories. And bluntly put, she needed a hug. Strong arms around her, a solid chest to lean against. She could stand on her own, she could hold up others, but it’d sure be nice to lean on Joe just for a while.

  “No risk of getting an overinflated ego around you. It’s always about the coffee.” He feigned a sigh. “I’ll do what I can. Keep the phone on your body at all times. Promise.”

  “I promise.”

  “Not in your purse, on you. I’m always just on the other end.”

  “On me. Got it.” His calm seeped to her. Grateful for it, she smiled. “Same here.”

  The doorbell rang.

  It wasn’t yet dawn. Before Beth could drag herself awake, Sara bolted past her to the door. With her hand on the knob, she stopped cold and shot Beth a terrified look.

  “What?” Beth made a mental note to insist that Sara throw those stupid shoes away. They were crippling her.

  “It’s going to be bad news. Good news would be a phone call from him.” Sara’s eyes went wild. “Oh, mercy. I can’t open the door, Beth. I—I can’t …”

  Beth walked over and clasped Sara’s shoulder. “Step back a little and I’ll open it.” Beth moved her enough so the door wouldn’t bang her shoulder. “You’ve got to get a grip.”

  “Please, don’t let it be bad.” Her staggered breath hitched her chest.

  “Sara, quit. Enough trouble finds us on its own. Don’t go looking for extra.”

  “I feel it, Beth.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I have all day.”

  All day. She hadn’t been to bed. Still dressed as she had been last night. Beth sent her a warning look. “You know what will happen if you don’t calm down.”

  Shaking hard, Sara squeezed her hands until her knuckles went white. “Lecture me later. Answer the door.”

  Beth swung it open. Jeff Meyers and the rookie, Kyle, stood on the porch. Beth automatically looked at Jeff. His pug nose was red from rubbing, and he’d ruffled his brown hair. He did that when he was upset. “What are you doing here before the crack of dawn?”

  “We need to talk.” Same suit he’d worn to the club. A bit more rumpled but a good fit on his broad shoulders. “Destin police asked me to drop by.”

  Destin police? “What for?”

  “Is Robert home?” Jeff asked.

  “No.” Jeff had no idea how much Beth resented that.

  Sara burst into tears. Beth frowned. “He left on a business trip yesterday morning, e-mailed from his phone that he’d call when he got to the hotel, but he ran into car trouble and called to say he was getting a rental and that he’d call when he got to the hotel. That’s it. He hasn’t been heard from since. Sara is … worried.”

  Compassion rippled over Jeff’s face. Dread chased it. He shot a concerned glance at Kyle.

  Sara sniffed, dabbed at her nose. “Is he dead, Jeff?”

  The detective blinked. “What?”

  “Robert,” she spat at him as if he were a dimwit. “Is he dead?”

  “Not so far as we know.” Jeff’s gaze skidded past Kyle to look at Beth, and then settled back on Sara. “We were hoping he’d be here and we could talk to him.”

  “Come in.” Beth waved them into the grand entry and on to the living room.

  Sara wadded bits of her skirt in her fists, crushing the raw-silk fabric. “I’m sorry.” Her apologetic little laugh sounded hollow and never touched her eyes. “I just … I was terrified.”

  What Sara feared Jeff had come to tell her was only too clear. But if anything, Jeff looked more serious. He had something else to say, and it wasn’t good news. “Sit down, Sara.”

  Beth turned her toward the pristine white sofa. Sara perched on its edge, looking brittle enough to snap.

  Jeff and Kyle sat on chairs near the bank of windows separated by long glass tables. Both looked as if they’d rather be anywhere else.

  What has Robert gotten into now? “Why exactly are you looking for Robert?”

  Kyle ignored Beth’s question and asked his own. “So Mr. Tayton phoned yesterday morning when getting a rental car. When was that, Mrs. Tayton?”

  “About ten o’clock. I wasn’t in but he left a voice mail message. He was at the auto shop, waiting for someone to bring him a rental car.”

  Beth hurried things along. “He paused during the message to answer someone—it sounded like he took delivery on the rental.”

  Sara nodded. “I took it that way too.”

  Kyle’s eyes turned hawkish. “He said he’d call from the hotel, but you haven’t seen or heard from him since?”

  The hair on Beth’s neck stood on edge. Something was seriously wrong.

  “Not a word.” Tears welled in Sara’s eyes. “His cell i
sn’t working.”

  Jeff rubbed at his ear. “You’re sure he’s not at the hotel now?”

  Dread might as well have been scrawled on Jeff’s face in red ink. “She’s checked several times. He hasn’t called home. What’s going on, Jeff?”

  He leaned forward and laced his hands at his knee. “Robert’s rental car was found abandoned in a local subdivision.”

  “Abandoned?” Sara looked confused. “In the village?”

  “No, in Destin.”

  “But that’s east of here. New Orleans is west.”

  “Yes.” Jeff twisted his academy ring on his finger, his face flushing. “Some kids were playing, and a boy chased the ball over to the car. He saw something inside and told his mother. She’d noticed the car parked there at about eleven thirty yesterday morning but hadn’t thought much of it until her boy came to her. When night fell and no one came for the car, she figured she should check the car herself. So she did, then called police.”

  Sara just stared at him.

  Why wasn’t she asking the obvious question? Beth stiffened. What had the boy seen? What alarmed his mother into phoning the police?

  Jeff waited but Sara still didn’t utter a sound, so he went on. “We knew from the tag that the car was a rental, but it took time to determine who had possession of it.”

  Sara didn’t blink or glance away; she’d zoned out. Bad news was coming and she was delaying its delivery to give it time to change to something not painful—or so Beth thought until Sara did a one-eighty that worried her even more.

  Her face lit up in a wondrous smile. “So the Destin police did find Robert.”

  “No.” Jeff shot Beth a silent plea for help. “They’ve canvassed the neighborhood, but no one saw him.”

  Sara frowned. “But you just said—”

  Another pleading look from Jeff. This one, Beth answered. “They found the car. Robert wasn’t in it.” Beth looked back at Jeff and asked the burning question. “What did the boy and his mother see in the car?”

  Kyle fidgeted. It took a lot to make a cop fidget, even a rookie. Jeff pounded out dread. “Jeff?” Adrenaline surged through Beth. “What did he see?”

  He leaned back, distancing himself from them and the situation. “Blood.”

  “No!” Sara gasped, mangled a shrill keen. “No. I-I—” She stammered, gasped, then gasped again. “I … can’t … breathe …”

  “Yes, you can,” Beth said. “Calm down, focus, and slowly inhale. There’s plenty of air. Breathe it in, and then let it out.” Sara’s doubt flooded her eyes. Beth firmed her voice and expression even more. “I said, you’re fine. Just breathe.”

  Kyle scooted, ready to bolt. Jeff dropped his gaze to the floor and his face flushed. He hated delivering this news and upsetting Sara. “So the boy saw blood and no one saw Robert?”

  Attuned to Sara’s precarious condition, Jeff quickly clarified. “A very small amount of blood, and this.” He passed Beth a shiny object in a little plastic bag. “Don’t open it.”

  Beth held the bag in her palm. Inside it was a plain gold wedding band.

  Sara gasped again. “Robert’s …”

  It looked like any other plain gold band to Beth. The slick package crinkled between her fingertips and thumb. “There are millions of gold bands. You’re sure?”

  Sara nodded wildly. “It’s his, I’m telling you. Look at the inside.”

  Beth stretched the plastic smooth, looked inside the ring, and saw the engraving: their names and wedding date. Her chest tightened. “It’s his.” She passed the bag back to Jeff, her stomach twisting into knots. The rental car abandoned. No Robert. Blood. His wedding band. What does all this mean? Beth looked over at Sara. She’d probably had about all she could stand. “Do you need your medicine?”

  “No.” Sheet white, she shook her head. “I’m okay.”

  “Asthma,” Jeff mouthed to Kyle. “Severely complicated by other medical issues.”

  Nearly everyone in the village knew about Sara’s attacks. They knocked her to her knees, then nailed her even more. Medicine given too soon wouldn’t be effective when she most needed it. Too late, and her airways would lock down. Fast action was required or Sara could lose her life.

  Kyle nodded.

  Jeff cleared his throat. “Police checked the trunk and found something else. I couldn’t bring it with me. It’s being examined.”

  Sara’s breathing was leveling out. Almost normal. Beth was thankful for that. At the dorm the night her parents died, Sara had coded. They’d fought hard to get her back, and it’d taken two long days and nights to get her stable and another two days before she’d been released from the hospital. Beth had never been so scared.

  In the years since, Sara had seven severe attacks; three in the last year, all when she had been overly tired, upset, or excited. That’s when Beth had learned that good news could be stressful too. For the most part, Sara’s attacks had been medically controlled, though the tension over Robert had triggered multiple mild attacks in the past six months. Keeping them mild and not life threatening had required Beth to tolerate more jabs and stabs from him than she typically would have tolerated from anyone.

  This attack could be as rough as the one at the dorm. Anxiety had been building all day, an attack seemed inevitable, but hopefully—please, God, don’t be napping—not one as bad as that. “What else did you find?”

  “A note,” he said.

  Like him, Beth waited a long minute, giving Sara time to absorb before setting her off again. “What kind of note?”

  “From Robert?” Sara held her hand at her throat, gently massaging her skin in what looked like an absent gesture, but Sara was attempting to stop muscle spasms.

  “No, it wasn’t from him.” Jeff shot Kyle a look that he ignored by focusing on a vase of white lilies on the table between two long, arched windows.

  Not good. Oh, definitely not good. Beth braced. Kyle didn’t want to be one to deliver this news to Sara, and that more than prepared Beth. She excused herself, snagged Sara’s inhaler, shoved it into her pocket, then returned to the living room.

  “What … about … the … note?” Sara struggled to get the question out.

  Jeff tried, but he just couldn’t seem to bring himself to look at Sara. “It said …” He shot Kyle another silent nudge to take over.

  Kyle grimaced and took up the banner. “It said, ‘Answer the phone tonight. Kidnapped for ransom.’ ”

  Sara’s face contorted in horror. She shrieked a wail so shrill it nearly made Beth’s eardrums bleed.

  “Call 911!” Scrambling, Beth shoved the inhaler into Sara’s gaping mouth.

  Robert? Kidnapped for ransom?

  6

  Anyone’s world can change on a dime.

  Beth’s grandmother had told her so a million times, and Beth thought she had understood. After Sara’s parents had died and she’d become another Dawson child in Beth’s family, their worlds had changed drastically. When SaBe had rocketed and their worrying about rent money had become history, their lives had changed radically again. But those changes didn’t prepare a person to fight for survival.

  Robert had been kidnapped, and regardless of his outcome, the event had thrown Sara into a life-threatening situation. So only in the past two hours had Beth really come to understand her grandmother’s saying. Sara’s world had turned topsy-turvy and then collapsed around her ears. The impact had been so jarring that she had to be flown to Sacred Heart Hospital in Pensacola, where she now lay in ICU with a team of doctors trying to keep her throat open, her lungs functioning, her bronchial tubes out of lockdown, and her blood pressure low enough to keep her heart from exploding. Her medical condition was worse than she’d told Beth. Sara had a weak heart.

  Peggy Crane and Harvey Talbot were on their way to Sacred Heart. They’d watch over her. Beth was forced to stay put—in case the kidnappers called.

  She sat woodenly on Sara’s sofa. A flurry of police and FBI agents coordinated, setting up an
d testing their equipment. Kyle Perry had left as soon as the FBI had arrived, but Jeff stayed with Beth. When he refused to let her board the helicopter with Sara, she’d nearly lost it. But he had made points she couldn’t dispute. The hospital was over an hour away, and if there, then she wouldn’t be positioned to respond to the kidnappers’ demands. That could create lethal challenges for Robert, which could create lethal challenges for Sara. Beth best served her friend here. Oh, but seeing her go through that attack … watching them load her onto the Life Flight alone …

  Beth’s eyes burned and her throat constricted. She blinked fast and swallowed hard, a snippet of conversation with an EMT replaying in her mind.

  “What happened to her feet?”

  “New shoes.”

  He gave her an odd look and started to comment, but his partner whispered something about patient privacy and he’d whispered back, “Women cripple themselves just so their legs look good. It’s insane. Look at her feet, man.” Then they’d boarded the chopper and taken off.

  A sheet covered Sara on the gurney; Beth hadn’t seen her feet. But he’d gotten that bent over a couple blisters and swollen ankles? In his line of work? Weird.

  “When the kidnapper calls, you’ve got to take it,” Jeff said. “They could want information you have that we don’t.”

  “I won’t have it either. You know Robert and I don’t get along. My concern is Sara.”

  Surprise and suspicion flickered through Jeff’s eyes. Beth buried her emotions to think. “You know what I mean.”

  “Are you involved with Robert’s disappearance?” Jeff frowned. “I have to ask …”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, I’m not. You have motive.”

  Beth’s jaw fell slack. “I don’t like him. That’s a long way from harming him. Would I do that to Sara?”

  Jeff looked her in the eye. “That’s what I’m asking you.”

  “No.” Anger roiled in her stomach. “I’m not involved in Robert’s disappearance or his kidnapping.”

  “So your concern for Sara is because …”

  “She’s fighting for her life. She’s been my best friend all my adult life.”

 

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