by Cindy Dees
While Doris cooed at Ellie and pronounced her the cutest baby ever, Laura looked stricken. Nick put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “She’ll be fine, darling. Tonight, Adam needs us.”
He was right. With a last kiss on Ellie’s forehead, Laura turned away from her daughter. “Let’s do this,” she announced soberly.
Nick nodded back equally soberly, his hand straying to the hip of his jacket, where she knew a pistol was concealed. She sincerely hoped it didn’t come to that.
Chapter 13
Nick drove. Once they were alone, the research done, a plan of action in place, the temporary truce between them evaporated. Just like that, all the questions about their relationship circled them like vultures, waiting for the death of their love. Not yet. They had to rescue Adam first. Then the rest of it could fall to pieces. Thankfully, the act of steering the car along increasingly narrow and rural roads was calming. It distracted him from the mistrustful look in Laura’s eyes, from the way she pulled back slightly whenever he reached toward her. He stared at the dark ribbon of asphalt before him bleakly. He’d lost everything and everyone in his life once before and survived it. A vision of Adam laughing at race cars flying across the playroom taunted him. Ellie’s baby burbles as she snuggled close to him. Laura’s face, transported in ecstasy as they made love—
Nope. It would kill him this time.
“What can I do to make things right between us?” he finally asked into the heavy silence between them.
Laura glanced over at him, startled. She answered slowly, “How am I supposed to trust you when you’ve kept so many secrets from me?”
“The only secrets I’m keeping from you now are the ones I can’t remember. I’d tell them all to you if I knew what they were,” he replied in frustration.
She shrugged. “It’s not enough. I need to know the children and I will be safe from whatever or whoever else lurks in your past.”
“It’s not like your past is entirely free of dangers, either,” he retorted. “Life is never a certain thing. You have to take it as it comes, for better or worse.”
She made a sound. He couldn’t tell if it was distress or disgust. “I don’t recall promising any for better or worse with you.”
“I’d have married you months ago, but I didn’t know if I was already married or not. The only reason I didn’t propose was because I was afraid to become a bigamist.”
“Then why didn’t you find out?” she snapped. “You knew your real name. A simple search on the internet would’ve revealed whether or not you were married.”
“The only thing I knew for sure was that stirring up my past would be dangerous. And it turns out I was right. I knew the best and only way to make sure you and the children were safe was to lay low. And I was right about that, too.”
Laura was silent beside him, but the turbulence of her thoughts buffeted him.
“I love you,” he declared. “You say you love me. Why does it have to be any more complicated than that?”
“Because it’s not enough to love someone. A long-term relationship takes more than that.”
“Like what?”
“Trust. Friendship. Openness. Respect.”
“Haven’t we had all of those this past year?”
She exhaled hard. “And were any of them real? Did you trust me enough to tell me who you really are? Were you open with me about what you do remember of your past? Did you respect me enough to tell me there might be dangerous secrets in your past?”
“I was trying to protect you and the children! Doesn’t that count for anything?”
“And look how well you did at that,” she replied with a hint of bitterness in her voice.
Her words were a scalpel slicing into his heart. She was right. He’d failed them all. Adam was in mortal danger, their daughter was hidden with a stranger, and Laura was on the verge of falling apart. He had to make it right. But how? If she wouldn’t give him a chance, what was he to do?
The one thing he wasn’t going to do was give up. He’d fight with every breath in his body to keep his children safe and win back the woman he loved. No matter how long it took or what he had to do. He gripped the steering wheel with renewed resolve. There had to be a way.
They approached the first cabin on foot, creeping through the woods in taut silence until they were able to peer in the windows cautiously. The tiny building turned out to be deserted. A quick look through the filthy glass panes revealed a thick layer of undisturbed dust over everything in the structure’s interior. No one had been here for months.
They drove for another hour of strained silence to the second cabin. As they neared the isolated road that, according to the GPS, dead-ended at its front door, he turned off the headlights and guided the car slowly through the darkness. It coasted forward in near total silence, only the crunch of gravel under the tires disturbing the night.
“Stop here, and turn the car around,” Laura instructed. “We’ll go the rest of the way on foot.”
He nodded and jockeyed the car back and forth, turning it to face the way they’d come on the narrow, one-lane road. No doubt she was setting them up for a fast getaway if things went bad. Always thinking several steps ahead, Laura was. He wondered if it was trained habit or intuition that led her to make the suggestion.
He had to shove his door open through a tangle of brambles and weeds. Thorns caught at his legs, and he picked his way carefully through the dangerous mass, stomping it down as he went in anticipation of his return. An apt metaphor for his entire life, right now—jumping on thorny problems in a futile effort to keep from being hopelessly snared by them.
“Did Super Mommy bring the diaper bag of doom?” he murmured.
Laura smiled reluctantly as she pulled night vision goggles out of said diaper bag and donned them. They made her look buglike. “I’ll take point.”
He fell in behind her, amused at the abrupt shift from Super Mommy to Super Spy. He’d been on a half-dozen photo safaris in Africa, and creeping through the woods at night like this reminded him strongly of trying to get close-up pictures of lions in the Serengeti.
Laura stopped and pointed ahead. He looked forward over her shoulder and spotted the vague outline of a man-made structure ahead. “There it is,” she breathed.
Stealthy creeping came naturally to him as they eased toward the cabin. Laura paused in the shadow of a broad, bushy juniper and he moved up close behind her. They were looking at the back of the cabin. A small porch stuck out, one side of it dominated by a large, stacked wood-pile. On each side of it was a window. Both windows were boarded over with plywood, and no light crept around the edges of the boards.
Laura took a hard look around the clearing, and then signaled him forward. They sidled up to the porch. Nick took each step one at a time, gently easing his weight onto each foot to minimize creaking. Laura did the same. She gestured for him to press his ear to the door while she watched his back. He nodded his understanding.
The wood was rough and cold against his ear. Holding his breath, he concentrated hard. He thought he heard a scrape inside. A shuffle of sound. His adrenaline spiked hard, and abruptly his heart pounded like a bass drum in his ear.
“Someone’s home,” he mouthed silently.
Laura nodded, the movement jerky as if she was tense, too. She eased down off the porch by slow degrees. It was nearly impossible to restrain his impatience behind her. But he understood the drill. Ten minutes of slow stealth now was better by a mile than an injured child—or worse.
They backed into the woods to crouch behind a stand of brush and confer quietly.
“Now what?” he asked.
For the first time he could ever remember, he saw indecision on Laura’s face. The sight tore at him as little else could. A mother terrified for her child’s safety was a terrible thing to see. He reached out to squeeze her hand.
“We have to make contact with the kidnapper, but we can’t freak him out. We don’t want to scare him into doing somet
hing rash.”
Nick nodded. “Sounds reasonable.”
“But I don’t know how to do this. I know how to perform surveillance on secure locations, how to break and enter practically anywhere, but I have no clue how to initiate a conversation.”
“How about we knock on the front door like we did with Kloffman?” Nick suggested.
Laura blinked. “You think that would work?”
“I think it would if you do it. A woman’s voice is a lot less intimidating than a man’s. And if he recognizes you, he knows you would never do anything to endanger your son.”
She nodded, thinking hard. “I’d have to make the approach alone. Unarmed.”
Alarm ripped through him. “Now wait a minute. Let’s not get carried away, here. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
She gave him a sad little smile. “Something bad already has. My son’s been taken from me.”
Granted. Still, the idea of risking her life, too, appalled him.
“Have you got any better ideas?” she whispered.
They had no phone number, no email, no other less-direct method of talking to whoever was inside that cabin. “I guess you’re knocking on the door,” Nick allowed reluctantly. “But be careful.”
It was her turn to squeeze his hand. “Count on it. And hey. For all we know, this isn’t the right place. Some hunter out here for a vacation may open that door.”
A tiny part of him hoped that was true for Laura’s sake. But mostly he hoped she was wrong. Time was running out on them to find their son.
Laura took a deep breath. She couldn’t ever remember being this scared—not in her career as a spy, not when she’d gone into labor with her first child, not even when she’d executed the daring rescue of a prisoner who turned out to be Nick. She shook from head to foot and couldn’t seem to control her knees properly.
All she had to do was walk across that little clearing, knock on the door, somehow gain the trust of the kidnapper, convince him she and Nick were on his side, and inquire politely as to the return of their son. What could be easier?
Unfortunately, her training permitted her to think up a thousand things that could go wrong with that simple little plan, many of which ended with Adam’s death and/or hers.
“If it feels bad, back out,” Nick whispered. “Trust your instincts. They’ve never led you wrong.”
Hah. If only. She’d followed her instinct to trust Nick in Paris and had lost her partner because of it. She’d followed her instincts not to push Nick about his past, and look where that had gotten all of them.
She rose to her feet and handed over her pistol to him. The diaper bag she kept with her. If nothing else, maybe she could use the cash inside it to buy Adam’s release.
“The diaper bag is the perfect touch,” Nick nodded. “It disguises Super Spy perfectly as Super Mommy.”
If only she truly were either one of those alter egos. Maybe they wouldn’t be in this mess. She was beyond tired and scared and simply doing what she had to do for her son. And after all, wasn’t that what all mommies did every day?
“Here I go,” she muttered.
“I love you. Be strong,” Nick murmured back.
Right. Strong. For Adam. She squared her shoulders and stepped into the clearing.
Since she was planning on announcing her presence anyway, she didn’t make any attempt at stealth until she reached the porch. Out of long habit, she eased up the steps so they wouldn’t creak. This was it.
She dared not stop to think about it or she might very well chicken out. She raised a fist and knocked quietly on the front door. The faint noises from the other side of the panel stopped abruptly and entirely.
“Hello!” she called out quietly. “It’s Laura Delaney. I’m alone and I’m not armed. I’d like to talk to you about what you know about AbaCo. I think we might be able to help each other.”
The pause on the other side of the door stretched out. She waited. And waited.
Oh, yeah. She and Nick had definitely found the right place. Elation frosted the edges of the tension gripping her.
Finally, a noise sounded just on the other side of the door. Perhaps a floorboard creaking.
“I have a diaper bag with me,” she said carefully. “I’m going to set it down beside me on the porch. I’m clasping my hands behind my head. I won’t move, I promise. If you’d like to search me and the bag, that’s fine.”
Another long pause. But this time, it was broken by the sound of a bolt opening. Her knees all but gave out from under her. Please, God, let Adam be on the other side of that door.
The door opened an inch. No surprise, the barrel of a shotgun poked out first. And then an eye. Its owner showed a sliver of iron-gray hair and rough, tanned skin.
A gruff voice ordered, “Step back from the door.”
She did as ordered.
“Now open the bag. Tilt it so I can see into it.”
She knelt slowly and unzipped the pink, quilted bag.
A low whistle came from inside the cabin. “Whatchya planning to do with all that cash?”
“Give it to you if you want it.”
The door opened wide to reveal a short, burly man. He looked to be in maybe his mid-sixties, with a grizzled gray stubble covering his jaw. He wore a flannel shirt over massive shoulders with the sleeves rolled up to show forearms corded in muscle. Nick had been right, after all. This guy had been a longshoreman—she’d bet her life on it. She’d also bet he’d seen something on AbaCo’s ships he couldn’t live with.
He took a step forward and patted her down with awkward, but thorough, hands. He muttered an apology as he handled her more private places.
“Do you want me to dump out the money so you can see there’s nothing dangerous underneath it?” she asked.
“Naw, you’re not that dumb.” He gazed sharply around the clearing, no doubt looking for a trick. “Get inside,” he said roughly.
She stepped into the cabin’s living area and looked around quickly. No sign of Adam. Her heart thudded to her feet. Had she and Nick been wrong about this place? Was she wasting her time here?
Her host raised his voice and called, “You can come out.”
The bedroom door opened cautiously, and two pairs of eyes, one high and one low, peered out. The door panel flew open and a small, dark-haired projectile launched itself at her. “Mommmmeeeeeeee!”
Tears were streaming down her face by the time Adam flung himself into her arms, nearly knocking her over. He clutched her neck until she almost choked, and she didn’t care in the least. She hugged him back as hard as she could, and he finally squirmed in protest. She loosened her grip a tiny bit, but not much.
“I knew you’d find us!” he babbled. “This is Joe, and he’s been really nice. He said you and Daddy were helping him and would come for me when the bad man was beaten. Did you win? Is Daddy okay?”
She made eye contact with the older man over Adam’s head. “That’s what I’m here to talk with Joe about.” Her gaze shifted to Lisbet, who’d stepped into the room more sedately than the boy.
“Are you all right?” Laura asked the nanny.
“Yes. Joe’s been a perfect host. We’re both fine.”
“I can’t thank you enough for taking care of Adam,” Laura tried to say calmly. Except the words provoked a new rush of tears down her cheeks.
“I treated him as I would my own son, ma’am.”
Laura nodded, too choked up to say more.
“Took you long enough to find us,” Joe rumbled. He set the diaper bag down on the kitchen table. “Didn’t you bring any help with you? I was counting on that.”
Huh? Laura stared at the man, bemused.
“You don’t think this thing with AbaCo is over, do you?” he snorted. “They don’t give up that easy. You of all people should know that.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked in alarm.
“You led their goons to us, of course.”
She frowned. “We
weren’t followed. We made sure of it.”
Joe pounced on that. “We who? Who’s out there?”
“Nick’s in the woods. It’s just the two of us.”
“Damn. No FBI? No cops?” Joe demanded.
He sounds disappointed! “I don’t understand.”
“You better get your fella in here. We need to talk,” Joe said cryptically. As she stared, he waved an impatient hand. “Go on. Go get him. I’ll wait.”
Still carrying Adam, who was attached to her like a leech—and that was just fine with her; she didn’t feel like letting go of him for a good long time, either—she headed for the front door.
She stepped onto the porch and called out, “Nick. It’s okay. You can come in, now.”
His tall form materialized out of the trees. He strode forward, then broke into a jog, and then into a run. He bounded onto the front porch and wrapped both her and Adam in a rib-cracking hug. He buried his face in her hair, and she felt the shudder of a sob wrack his body against hers. Adam’s grip shifted from her to Nick, but she didn’t begrudge the two of them the hug. “Daddy! I knew you’d come for me. I missed you. I got more leaves for my album. And Joe showed me how to tie knots and build a fire and all kinds of cool stuff. Will you take me camping when we get home?”
Laughter replaced Nick’s silent relief in shaking him. “Sure, buddy.”
“Y’all want to bring the love fest inside?” Joe said from the doorway. “We gotta talk. And if I don’t miss my guess, we ain’t got long.”
Nick frowned and glanced down at her.
“He thinks AbaCo has followed us. He’s disappointed that we didn’t bring the cavalry along.”
They stepped inside and Nick closed the door behind them, asking grimly, “Did you tell him we think the cavalry’s been infiltrated by AbaCo?”
“We haven’t gotten to that part, yet,” she answered ruefully.