by Stacy Green
Jaymee sagged against the window. She stuck her bound hands between her legs and dug her fingernails into the seat. Darren was oblivious, muttering about the Lord’s vengeance and protecting the hearts of the righteous.
“So when you killed Lana, you didn’t know about the adoption ring. You just knew he was about to be exposed. And you chose him over me.”
“I don’t like hurting people.” He ignored her question.
Her fingers drifted over her collarbone. Sticky blood had begun to pool. “Hard to believe.”
“I just don’t know what else to do.” He’d reverted back to his normal, dulcet tone.
“I thought it would end with Lana. And then Rebecca discovered Royce’s bank records.”
“He was the attorney, then?”
“No.”
Darren’s head moved from side to side, bobbing to a tune only he could hear. “After Lana showed up when you were visiting Jackson and asked about illegal adoptions, Royce started snooping and figured it out. He blackmailed Holden.”
“What exactly did he figure out?”
“Debra used to be the office secretary at Royce’s firm. She helped Holden on his mission. Lana snooped, Royce discovered. Used it to his advantage.”
Jaymee’s mind stalled. “His mission?”
“Yes.”
“And what would that be?”
“Providing loving couples with abandoned children.”
“Abandoned?” Jaymee’s voice went shrill. Her fear molded into rage. “He said we abandoned our children?”
“When a mother is incapable of taking care of her child, she’s abandoned her. And you made the choice to give up your rights.”
“Holden gave me no choice. I wanted to keep her, but he said…” Jaymee caught herself. Did she tell Darren now? No. Not yet. Too soon to play her only wild card.
“That you weren’t fit? Of course you weren’t.”
“So it’s fine he’s made hundreds of thousands of dollars off illegal adoptions?”
“Fees and expenses. He never profited.” Darren nodded hard enough to bump his chin on his chest. “He assured me of that.”
“When did you two have this talk?”
“The morning after you accosted him at our parents’ place.”
“And you believe him?”
“He wouldn’t lie to me.”
She couldn’t help herself. Tired, hollow laughter erupted from Jaymee’s chest. She clamped her hand over her mouth. Too late. Darren hissed, jerked the van sharply to the right, smacking her head against the window. Her laughter moved to harsh sobs. She clutched her throbbing head.
“Laugh at me again, and I’ll do more than that.”
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep silent. Let him try. First chance she got, she’d sink her nails into his pretty face. He might put her in the grave, but not before she got a good chunk of his DNA.
29
Nick turned onto Roselea’s downtown strip just as a massive thundercloud blocked the setting sun. Fingers drumming the steering wheel, Nick rode the bumper of an old pickup truck until it turned down a side street. He slammed the gas and headed for Sallie’s Diner.
Jaymee wasn’t at the Foster’s. Lorelai hadn’t seen her all day. Cage wasn’t answering his phone.
Damn stubborn woman. She must have gone to work. He knew she needed money, but she should take better care of herself. She’d probably gone straight back to the diner and started her shift as though nothing happened.
Still, if Lorelai hadn’t seen Jaymee all day, then where had the uniform taken her after Penn’s revelation?
A heavy unease ballooned in his stomach. His mouth was too dry to produce any saliva. The bottle of water he downed only made his stomach hurt worse, and the cottony layer of gunk in his mouth continued to thrive.
Downtown on a Friday night was busy. Nick parked two blocks down from the diner, locked the doors, and jogged the rest of the way. The thud of his feet on the pavement timed with his heartbeat, and despite a relatively cool breeze, his body heat sent the sweat pouring out of him. Passersby glared and darted out of the way. Nick didn’t bother to excuse himself.
Thud, thud, thud.
He ducked around a young couple and yanked the diner’s door open. He immediately registered two things: the place was noisier than usual, and Jaymee was nowhere in sight.
But maybe she was in the back. On a break. Maybe she was holed up in the alley, thinking, crying, hating.
Or maybe she wasn’t here.
The table to his right complained about the wait for their food. A man at the table in front of them perched on the edge of his booth, two fingers in the air, looking famished and furious. Two empty booths still had tables full of dirty dishes, and in the middle of it all ran a harried-looking Sallie. Strands of her gray hair had escaped her bun. Her glasses had slid down her nose, precariously perched on the tip of cartilage.
“Sallie.”
She stopped at Nick’s voice, plates in one hand and a pen and notepad in the other. A raised eyebrow signaled her attention.
“Where’s Jaymee?”
“She didn’t come back for her shift.” Sallie sounded more worried than angry.
Unease spread over Nick. “She got some bad news this afternoon.”
“I heard.”
“How?”
Sallie jerked her chin in acknowledgement of the man waving his fingers. “One second, sir.” Smelling of fruity perfume and bacon, she stepped close to Nick. She pitched her voice to a low hum. “Cage stopped by an hour ago looking for her. He’d heard the news over the scanner, called Detective Charles.”
“Everything?”
“Everything.” Sallie pursed her mouth, the pink lipstick worn off and the darker lip-liner still faintly outlining her lips. “I don’t know if Penn Gereau is a noble steed or a cowardly ass.”
“I’ll go with cowardly ass. Did Cage see Jaymee?”
“No. But he figured she must have gone back to her trailer. Somewhere she could have peace. Can’t blame her for not coming in. Still, it’s not like her not to call.” Sallie worried her lower lip, smudging the liner.
“Was he going over to check on her?”
“Said he was. Hasn’t come back yet.” Sallie looked around at the irritated customers. “I’ve got to get back to work. Let me know when you find her.”
Her words chilled his sweaty skin. Nick called Cage again, and this time, his brother-in-law answered.
“You go out to Jaymee’s yet?”
“No. Got called in on a domestic dispute out in the sticks.”
“Something’s wrong.” Nick left the diner just as a group of four entered. “Jaymee didn’t even call her boss.”
“She’s got other shit on her mind.”
“You know as well as I do just bailing on Sallie isn’t like her.”
“You heard about Gereau, right? That he’s Jaymee’s real father?”
“Yeah,” Nick said. “Sallie told me.”
“Jaymee’s probably holed up in misery. Can’t say I blame her.”
“She still would have called Sallie. I’m going out to check on her.”
Cage was silent for a beat. “All right. She shouldn’t be alone right now, anyway. Call me when you get there.”
Moving over the southwest end of town, the purple and green storm clouds bulged with rain. The storm ushered in the dark, and the antique streetlights flickered to life. Spotty breaths of cool had been replaced by thick humidity. The change in pressure left Nick with sore sinuses and a fine layer of sweat. A rapid flash brightened the dancing cloud. Then, a weak rumble of thunder.
Nick swatted the buzzing gnats and ran for the car.
By the time he reached Ravenna Court, the lightning had powered up. Heavy, blue-white streaks jabbed at the earth, spreading out like an electric pitchfork. Hard claps of thunder followed, closer with every rumble. Far behind the approaching storm, the sun descended, surrounding the light show with a dusky orange. Nick might
have called the scene beautiful if the storm didn’t seem like such a terrifying omen.
Intuition, panic, pessimism–all warred for dominance. As he pulled up to her trailer, its windows dark and the door shut, intuition won. Intuition clubbed him in the back of the head, punched him in the heart, and threw him out of the car.
He knew she wasn’t there, wasn’t inside, wasn’t going to answer. Or couldn’t.
Nick’s hand hovered over the rusted handle, blood rushing to his face. Pain rippled through his clenched teeth. Slowly, he grasped the handle. The door was unlocked.
He pulled it open, expecting it to creak like something out of a shitty horror movie. The door was as silent as the inside of the trailer. A streak of lightning lit up the inside. Nick climbed the cement steps and lingered in the doorway. Jaymee had been here. The scent of sweet flowers still hung in the air–her shampoo. Thunder slammed once more, shaking the trailer. A glance out the window at the green sky reminded Nick he was in the worst place possible if a tornado hit.
No time to dick around.
Nick grabbed the string hanging above the table and switched on the light. Emptiness greeted his effort. Empty table, empty sink, empty rooms. Nothing was out of place. The normalcy terrified Nick.
Walking on lead-filled feet, Nick checked the small bedroom and bathroom. A few clothes, clean towels, twin bed made with a faded set of navy sheets, a folded blanket at the foot. He looked back and forth, scanning the room for something–anything–that could tell him where Jaymee had gone. Back in the living area, still nothing. He only knew she’d been here. Recently.
Where was she?
Another crack of thunder. Blast of wind. Jaymee’s home trembled. So did Nick. Pressing his palm to his forehead, he breathed hard, the air raw in his chest. Maybe he was overreacting. Jaymee’s life had turned upside down yet again today. She could have reached her breaking point. Gone somewhere to hide. Gotten snagged by the murderer desperate to cover Holden’s bad acts.
Royce Newton. Paul Ballard. One of the men had to be Holden’s accomplice. If he’d heard about Holden’s beating and Debra’s arrest, he could have panicked. Nick left a message for Cage and then called Charles hoping he wasn’t too busy to answer.
“What now?” Charles growled over the receiver. “I’m processing Gereau and dealing with Kees over Debra’s confession and the paperwork the Andrews woman gave you. Got the attorney general on hold while we figure out how exactly to charge Holden.”
“Murder one.”
“No proof.”
“Kidnapping.”
“Hard to kidnap someone when you’re tied up bleeding in a basement.”
“Jaymee’s not at the Foster’s or her trailer. Someone took her.”
Charles grumbled something Nick couldn’t understand. “Signs of a struggle?”
“No.”
“Then how you know she’s missing?”
“She didn’t show up for work. Didn’t call. That’s not like her. Cage hasn’t heard from her. She went home and someone took her. You track down Royce Newton yet?”
“No.”
“What about Ballard?”
“He’s at the hospital with Holden, running his mouth about Gereau being a sinner and shit. Already talking about his wife as though she’s a world-class criminal.”
“Trying to save his reputation.” Nick left the trailer unlocked and got into his car. “Newton’s got to have taken Jaymee. He’s heard about Debra’s arrest somehow, or Holden’s, and lost it. Maybe Jaymee’s his bargaining chip. You need to get a warrant for Evaline.”
“It’s in the works based on Debra’s testimony. But she’s in Jackson, and I’ve got to deal with red tape. It’s late here. Judges home for the evening.”
“Then call one at home.”
“I will as soon as I get everything I need from Jackson and Sergeant Kees. Ain’t bothering no judge until I’m sure he’ll sign the warrant.”
“Jaymee’s missing.” Nick slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “We need to find her.”
“All right. You start looking, and I’ll call the county sheriff, get him to send Cage over there. I’ll send a uniform back to Gereau’s and her parents. We’ll find her. Soon as I get the warrant for Evaline, I’ll let you guys know.”
Dead air. Nick tossed the phone into the passenger’s seat. Lightning spiderwebbed across the sky. Four seconds later, thunder crashed. A few residents of the trailer court came out to watch. Kids playing in the nearby field ran for cover as the rain pelted.
Leaning back in the seat, Nick pinched his lower lip. Lights came on in a couple of trailers. People were home. Maybe someone had seen Jaymee leave, saw her captor.
He stashed his phone in his pocket and dashed out into the deluge.
30
Storm clouds chased Darren and Jaymee’s escape and swiftly passed the speeding vehicle. Soon they were engulfed in the deep purple and black tempest, driving head-on into its wrath. A coffin on wheels, Jaymee thought as the storm swept the minivan into its embrace. Lightning shattered the purple sky and thunder boomed hard enough to rattle the van windows. They were at nature’s mercy.
And she was at Darren’s.
“Where are we going?” She spoke above the din.
“Don’t you recognize the route?” His answer was cheerful, as though they’d embarked on a summer picnic.
“No.”
Rain pelted. Winds whipped. The van trembled. Any minute now, a funnel cloud, the terrifying entity her mother called the finger of God, would reach down and toss the van into the abyss. She closed her eyes. Lightning hit so close it shined behind her closed lids. Crash! Raining harder, pouring. Darren whistling. Scream building, panic rising, consciousness waning. No. Stay alert. Be ready to fight. He could strike any moment.
She shifted in the seat, digging her heels against the floor and keeping her fists primed.
Darren kept whistling.
31
Nick had banged on every door in the trailer park and talked to at least half the residents, including a smarmy-looking manager named Shaw. Not a damned one had noticed Jaymee.
Soaked and still sweating, he climbed onto the hood of his car. He barely noticed the rain drumming on the top of his head. An awful, gut-numbing feeling started in his feet and crawled through his legs and torso, anesthetized his arms, and sucked away any sense of hope still left.
He’d been in this moment of agony before. The uncertainty, the paralyzing sensation of undeniable loss; he’d felt this way four years ago when Lana disappeared. Three days had passed in limbo. Staring at the phone, checking messages, searching the news. Purgatory. Worse than the finality of death.
Rain splashed into his eyes and slid down his cheek. Tasted fresh on his tongue. Even in the downpour, with the lightning still thrashing, the smell of rain prevailed. Sweet, clean. Summer rain always brought a sense of renewal. He curled his lip at the bitter irony. Today was a renewal, all right. Renewal of a damned nightmare.
A blast of wind sent a trashcan skidding. The lid went in the opposite direction, slammed another trailer, and fell to the ground. The hulking live oaks surrounding the park swayed. They’d survived for centuries, but it was nothing for a limb to topple off in a storm. Nick should get off his ass and leave. Keep searching.
He didn’t move.
Had to be Royce. Means, motive, opportunity–all there. Had Jaymee been his end game? Was he decompensating? Or did he plan to go out in a blaze of bloody glory?
Jaymee would fight. She was smart. She’d stay alive long enough to be found. Search warrant for Evaline was all they needed.
High beams blinded him. Nick blocked the light with his hand. Car door slammed and Maybe she’d come home.
“You didn’t answer your phone.” Cage’s shout was nearly drowned out by the wind and rain.
Shit. He grabbed his pocket. Gone. Must have fallen out in the mud. “I dropped it.”
Cage jerked his head toward Jaymee’s trailer. “Charl
es said you couldn’t find her.”
“No.”
“Did you ask around?”
“Everybody I saw. Royce’s got her, Cage.”
“What’s the inside of the trailer look like?”
“Normal.”
“Can’t get a forensics unit out here until she’s declared missing.”
Red tape bullshit. Nick slid down off the Malibu. “So we just wait. Wait for Charles to get a search warrant. Wait for Jaymee not to show up. Wait while she’s being tortured.”
Cage’s head snapped to the side. He closed his eyes. Nick remembered his brother-in-law loved Jaymee, too. Cage blew out a raggedy breath, rolled his shoulders back, and opened his eyes to stare at Nick with hardened determination.
“Said a forensics team would have to wait. Didn’t say we would.”
32
“Gloves on?”
Nick grunted an acknowledgement. “My prints’ll show up anyway. I was just here an hour ago.” He’d left the door to Jaymee’s trailer unlocked and now pushed it open.
“Least you won’t be adding to it,” Cage went inside first. “Don’t touch anything. Smallest detail can sink a case.”
“I’ve been around a while.”
“As a reporter.”
“I’ve been to crime scenes.”
“On the other side of the tape.” Cage turned on the light, the yellow bulb reflecting off his hardened gaze. “I’m in charge Nick. Period. You shouldn’t even be here. Consider it a damned privilege.”
“Whatever.”
Stillness, heavy and breathtaking, dominated Jaymee’s home. Her flowery scent had wilted away in the heat.
“Officer said he dropped her off here about 4:30,” Cage said. “She told him she’d change and then walk to work. Long walk, but maybe she wanted to clear her head.”
He went to the bathroom. “Sink looks recently used.”
“I checked the bedroom. It’s clean.” He followed Cage into the small area.
“She must not have changed,” Cage said. “Laundry basket’s empty.”
“Then he got here before then. Maybe he followed her from Gereau’s.”